Happy Ever After – The Real World
by GriffinStar
Summary: Follows on from 'Beauty and The Beast – Happy Ever After'. Can Martin and Louisa find a compromise so that they can work, live together, raise their son and still both be happy?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:****Doc ****Martin ****is ****the ****property ****of ****Buffalo ****Pictures. ****I ****own ****nothing ****except ****my ****over active ****imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

_Follows __on __from__ '__Beauty __and __The __Beast__ – __Happy __Ever __After?_

**Chapter 1**

As I stepped in through the front door, I was glad to leave the cold, dark, miserable December evening behind me. The house was warm and welcoming, and I could hear Louisa upstairs with James Henry. He was laughing and giggling as she played with him.

'_Round and round the garden like a teddy bear, o__ne step, two step, tickle you under there!' _I heard her chanting to him.

"I'm back," I called out as I made my way up the stairs.

"So, how did it go?"" Louisa asked, looking up at me as I reached the doorway to the nursery. I could see James was having his nappy changed as part of his bedtime routine, and I was glad I had got back in time to see him before he went to bed.

"Lot to think about. We'll talk later. How's he been today?" I went over and felt his forehead to see if he was in any way feverish. There were a lot of viruses doing the rounds as was usual at this time of year, but he seemed fine as he smiled up at me happily. At least now that Louisa was on holiday from school for the Christmas break, she could concentrate on being at home and looking after our baby. Roger Fenn's wife Maureen was a reasonable enough child minder I supposed, she had clearly been the best choice from the list of the local registered child minders, but I was still happiest when James was being looked after by his mother.

"He's just fine and dandy, aren't you my handsome little man, hmm," Louisa cooed as she held our son up to nuzzle his neck and blow raspberries, a game which clearly he loved as he chuckled and grinned and showed off his new little bottom front tooth. She then proceeded to dress him in a bright red all in one nightsuit with the words 'My First Christmas' emblazoned across the front, and then passed him over to me to hold as she disposed of the soiled nappy. It was just a week before Christmas, so I supposed that was why Louisa felt the need to dress him in such garments.

I held him close and marvelled yet again at how comforting it was to hold him, a feeling that he seemed to reciprocate as he happily snuggled into my chest, so that I could feel his soft blonde baby hair just under my chin. Instinctively I patted his back and gently rocked him – where these instincts had come from I knew not, as my parents had certainly never shown the slightest sign of them towards me. But there was no doubt that James Henry and I were relaxed and comfortable in each others company in a way that I had never experienced with anyone else in my life before, and it meant the world to me. If someone had told me a year ago that I would feel this way about a small baby I would have scoffed and told them not to be so ridiculous, but it was true. I loved him and I loved his mother more than I would ever had dreamed possible, which was why I had given up my plans to return to London to stay in this ridiculous Cornish backwater.

"Right, I'll just feed him, and hopefully he'll go down for the evening, and you can tell me all about how it went today. And then I can give you the list of jobs I need you to do this weekend please Martin," Louisa informed me.

"I do hope you aren't expecting me to undertake any kind of activity associated with putting up ridiculous Christmas decorations. I think I've made my feelings on the matter perfectly clear," I grumbled. I couldn't think of anything worse, it all seemed such a waste of time and effort to me.

"Oh bah humbug, don't be such an old scrooge! This is James Henry's first Christmas, as well as our first Christmas together, so I want it to be really special," Louisa said as she came over to kiss me, having worked out by now that I found it very hard to refuse her anything if she used her feminine charms on me. Even as she hugged me while I held the baby, I could feel myself responding to her touch. I covered up my feelings in my usual way.

"Hmm. Commercialised load of old tosh, all this Christmas nonsense," I muttered as I handed James back to her for his feed. I watched as she sat with him in the rocking chair next to his cot, undid her blouse and nursing bra so that our son could feed. Clearly he was blissfully happy as he suckled contentedly, his little fingers exploring the soft skin of his mother's breast as he gazed up at her, while she smiled down at him and gently stroked his cheek. It was such a perfect picture, and I knew that I would do anything to make my family happy, whatever I might say. And of course I realised that Louisa knew this perfectly well too.

**xXx**

It hadn't taken long for news to spread in medical circles that despite conquering his blood phobia, Martin Ellingham had decided to stay down in Cornwall instead of returning to London. Almost immediately Truro hospital contacted him and practically begged him to head up their Vascular Surgical team. So we discussed moving to Truro as it was not really feasible for Martin to commute there every day, but I think Martin was reluctant to rock the boat by putting any kind of pressure on me to move from the village if I wasn't keen, not after it had taken us so long to finally get to this point. So he turned the job offer down, and I felt terribly guilty because I knew that Martin was desperate to be a surgeon again, having finally overcome his phobia

But I just felt that Portwenn was where I belonged, and that it was a good place to raise a family. I also felt that having fought so hard to get the Headship, I couldn't mess the school about again, having resigned and then retracted my resignation.

But it seemed that Truro Hospital really wanted Martin on _any_ terms, because they suggested that he go over to discuss various options with them, to find out what he would be prepared to work, and see if they could find some common ground. He had initially been reluctant to go, I think because he was fearful that I would be upset. But I urged him to go, to find out what they had in mind, because I was very aware that Martin had made a _huge_ sacrifice by not returning to London, and I didn't want him to become resentful at being tied down with us as a rural GP, rather than becoming a surgeon once more.

Of course now I was dying to find out what they had suggested, so as soon as I had managed to settle James, I hurried downstairs with the baby listener, and found Martin in the kitchen where he was just finishing off the meal I had prepared for us to share on his return.

I went over to kiss and hug him again. I was trying to encourage him to be more relaxed and demonstrative towards me, having seen how he loved holding and cuddling our baby. It was evident to me that underneath all those many protective layers that Martin had built around himself, deep down, _very_ deep down, there beat the heart of a sensitive and loving man, and I was determined to see more of that side of him.

As I now snuggled against his chest where just a short while ago James had been, I was happy to feel Martin put his arms around me to return the hug. Definitely making progress, I thought to myself.

"Come on then, _spill_. What did they say? What have they suggested? Come on, tell me!"

_To __be __Continued_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:****Doc ****Martin ****is ****the ****property ****of ****Buffalo ****Pictures. ****I ****own ****nothing ****except ****my ****overactive ****imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 2**

I truly had no regrets about choosing to stay in Cornwall with Louisa, and I was certainly not going to blow this last chance that I had been given by her to work things out between us. I was determined to do whatever it took to make her and James happy. But if I was being honest with myself, that didn't mean I wasn't suffering a few pangs, lamenting the loss of my surgical career that I had thought I was finally about to resume. In my mind, I had never stopped being a surgeon. It was what I was good at, what I had always excelled at. But I had made my choice of my own free will, and I just had to make a go of things as best as I could with what remained of my career.

The first thing that I had to do was to inform Robert at Imperial that I would not be taking up the Head of Vascular post. I did not relish making the call, but it had to be done, no point in putting it off once I'd made my decision. But actually it turned out to be easier than I expected. My temporary stand in, who had flown back from South Africa, had already let it be known that he would be more than happy to take up the position permanently.

"He's not you of course, but he's pretty good actually. Turns out he's met someone while he's been back here in London. Fallen madly in love it seems, doesn't want to go back to South Africa," Robert informed me. "Much as I gather has happened to you eh, you dirty old dog Martin. I hear you've got yourself a Cornish beauty to keep you warm at night. About bloody time, I must say I didn't think you had it in you."

Robert had always been a ladies man, and with his distinguished looks and charming manner he'd never had a problem attracting the fairer sex, despite being happily married. His numerous affairs had been common knowledge all the time that I had known him.

"I err…don't know…that is…it's not like that at all Robert," I tried to explain, caught completely off guard by his reaction, and having no idea how on earth he knew about Louisa.

"Oh come on Martin, no shame in finally giving in to the pleasures of the flesh after all these years. Could never understand how you managed on your own for so long, it's just not natural. And I hear you've even managed to produce a sprog, you certainly didn't hang about did you?"

I could tell from the tone of his voice that Robert was really rather enjoying this conversation, taking pleasure in my obvious discomfort.

"Umm…yes…we have a son…" I admitted.

"I have to say that I am bloody disappointed not to have you back here. There really is no one to match your level of skill, and it seems such a waste for you not to use your undoubted surgical gifts. I hope you're really sure she's worth the sacrifice, Martin, that's all I would say. So is it the full works, marriage and so on? Can I expect a Wedding invite?"

"I…err…don't know, it's complicated. One step at a time, I'm lucky she's even giving me a chance actually. You know I've never been any good at any of this kind of thing."

"True, you always were pretty clueless with the ladies weren't you, except for Edith of course. But then she was more like one of the boys in any case wasn't she?"

"Err…yes," I muttered, really not wanting to talk about that woman.

"Well, all the best for the future Martin, hope it works out for you in the way you want. And next time you're up in London, you must bring this fascinating woman to see me, seeing as she is the one who has finally managed to snare the big guy eh?" Robert laughed loudly before he hung up.

So it turned out that just as I had tried to tell Louisa when she had been fretting about her Head Teacher's job at the school, no one was irreplaceable.

My next call had been to Chris Parsons, to see about staying on as GP in Portwenn.

"Of course Martin, no question, we'd be delighted to keep you on, but…" he hesitated.

"What?"

"Are you sure it will be enough for you? You were so set on returning to surgery, won't you find being a GP rather restrictive and boring maybe?" He questioned me. "You know Robert was really thrilled to be having you back. Actually we met up the other week when I was up in town, caught up on old times."

So that most likely explained how Robert knew all about Louisa and James Henry. I'd forgotten that Chris had also worked in the team under Robert, back in the days before he had come down to Cornwall.

"Well you changed track when you got married and started a family didn't you Chris? Preferred the office hours of the PCT headship to the long hours of surgery, so I hardly think you're in a position to question me," I pointed out.

"True, but then I was just a bog standard surgeon, not gifted the way you were Martin, the way you still are."

"I've made my choice. I have no regrets. So do I have a job or not?"

"Of course you do, we're lucky to have you," Chris assured me.

However, I was pretty sure that Chris had something to do with the fact that only a couple of days later, I was approached about a surgical position at Truro hospital. Under the latest Government initiative, Truro had been designated as the surgical centre of excellence for the South West of England. It had been dressed up as a move to improve standards, but to my mind it smacked of a cost cutting exercise – closing down all the small local hospital departments to concentrate on developing one major centre. The upshot of it was that they wanted me to head up and develop the surgical team in general, and also to provide specialist vascular expertise.

Louisa was in the room with me when I got the phone call, and I saw her looking at me curiously as she heard my end of the conversation. I quickly filled her in when the call was over.

"Surgical post at Truro hospital. Wanted to know if I would be interested," I explained.

"Oh, right I see. And are you? Interested I mean?"

"I don't know Louisa, I've never really considered…well about being a surgeon anywhere but London. But I suppose there is really no logical reason why I couldn't work in Truro," I pondered. "What do you think?"

"It's really up to you Martin," Louisa replied, but I could see a worried look in her eyes. "Working in Truro – well it's too far away for you to commute back and forth every day, especially in the winter."

"Yes, I suppose it is. And I'm assuming you wouldn't want to move to Truro?"

"I'm not sure to be honest. I'd have to give it some thought. And then of course there's my job…"

It was quite apparent to me that this plan really was a non starter for Louisa, so I quickly assured her.

"Look, I'll tell them I'm not interested, Chris has already confirmed I can stay on as GP here in Portwenn, so don't worry about it any further."

I'd got it all so terribly wrong so many times before that I was determined not to risk spoiling things now. Louisa was happy living in the village, so that's where we would stay. End of story, however interesting the offer had sounded.

**xXx**

But of course that wasn't the end of the story. Bill Moore at Truro was a persistent bugger I had to concede.

"Look Ellingham, truth of the matter is you'd be perfect to run this set up, we can't believe our luck that a man of your calibre has chosen to settle in this part of the world. No one else has your expertise. Are you sure we can't twist your arm? It seems such a shame, such a waste not to make use of you. Couldn't you see your way to take on the role in some way? Why don't you come over and talk through the possibilities, and then we could show you what we had in mind with the set up. You know, it's pretty impressive I have to say, even if it isn't London," he tried to cajole me.

I had to admit that it sounded really tempting, and part of me was desperate to find out more. Louisa seemed to sense this, despite my denials when I told her that I wasn't interested and was happy to stay in Portwenn as GP. I had always been an appalling liar.

"Look, it can't hurt to find out more can it? It sounds really interesting, something that I'm sure you would be brilliant at. I know how hard it must have been for you to give up your London dream, so maybe we could work out some sort of compromise so that you could do this? Can't have you bored out of your mind can we?" Louisa joked, and she was clearly trying hard to be supportive of my career, just as she had been when she had initially agreed to move to London with me. But I was just so fearful of making the same mistake of being selfish and not considering her feelings and losing her all over again.

"If you're happy, I'm happy, and I know that you don't want to move from the village," I told her.

"But maybe you won't be happy if you can't ever be a surgeon again, and then I wouldn't be happy either. Just go and see what they are prepared to offer, and we'll take it from there," she insisted. "Don't pretend to me that it doesn't interest you - you have to be honest with me Martin, or it'll never work between us will it?"

So I finally agreed to a meeting at Truro Hospital.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 3**

"All in good time Louisa. Just let me serve up our meal," Martin insisted, ignoring the fact that I was practically hopping up and down on one leg, desperate to find out what had happened at his meeting at Truro hospital.

I could sense his disapproval of my choice of meal – Toad in the Hole – but I'd really fancied some old fashioned comfort food on this cold winters evening, rather than one of Martin's endless healthy fish meals. And anyway, I'd prepared lots of nutritious vegetables to go with it too.

"At least tell me if it went OK," I pleaded, as he plated up the steaming food, which smelt delicious.

"I suppose you could say it went well enough," he replied, not looking at me directly, but I still managed to catch the gleam of excitement in his eyes. I realised that he was trying very hard not to let on to me just how well things really had gone.

Damn it, if he would only talk to me properly! Just as when he had first told me about the surgical post being offered to him, he'd taken one look at the surprised look on my face and immediately declared that he would turn it down, instead of really talking it through with me. I'd had to practically twist his arm to go to this meeting at the hospital, and even then he had put it off for several weeks. I think he knew that if he found out more about it, he would find himself being drawn in and really wanting it, and he was scared that this would cause problems between us. So I decided that I had to play it cool, and let him tell me in his own good time and in his own good way.

As we sat down to eat at the table together, Martin looked at me horrified as I squirted a blob of HP Brown Sauce onto my plate – an essential accompaniment to Toad in the Hole as far as I was concerned. Martin could be a terrible snob as far as food was concerned – well actually in quite a few areas when I thought about it. Anyway, I tucked hungrily into my food, and waited for Martin to open up to me. And waited. And waited.

"How was the journey over to Truro?" I finally ventured to ask, to break the silence.

"Alright, although there are some road works clogging up the one way system near the hospital."

"How about on the way back – bit of a horrid journey in the dark on some of those narrow roads isn't it?"

"Yes, not the nicest drive I must agree."

We continued eating in silence for a while longer, while I struggled to contain my frustration at Martin's reticence. Finally I could stand it no longer.

"So come on then, tell me what happened at your meeting for goodness sake!"

"Louisa, I'm just gathering my thoughts first, to ensure that I explain things to you in a logical and comprehendible manner," he pronounced rather pompously.

"What, because you think I'm thick and won't understand or something?" I retorted, knowing that this wasn't really being very constructive, but unable to help myself. At times Martin just brought out the worst in me, despite my best intentions.

"No, of course not! But what's the big rush? Why do you have to be so impatient?" He looked at me in puzzlement, then with a sigh finally started to tell me. "I've been offered two different propositions, and I'm still working out the implications of each."

"Go on."

But just then came the unmistakeable sound of James Henry grizzling via the baby intercom. I knew straightaway by the type of cry that he had wind, probably because I had rather rushed to get him settled after his feed, and he would undoubtedly need attention before he would settle again.

"I'll go. Sounds like he's got wind." Martin offered as he stood up.

I smiled at the fact that Martin also knew instantly what the matter with our baby was. And to be fair, he seemed to have the knack of getting James to bring up his wind, so I gladly let him go to sort him out. I heard him over the listener, calmly soothing him, and before long came the unmistakeable sound of wind escaping from both ends of our son.

"That's better. You shouldn't be so greedy with your feed young man, take it more slowly next time hmm?" Martin lectured. Before long it seemed that James was settled once more, and Martin came back down.

He looked over at me for a long minute as he sat down again. Then he took a deep breath, and started speaking,

"The situation is this; Bill Moore's preferred option is for me to be the full time Surgical Consultant, heading up the new centre of excellence, but I've told him that simply isn't an option for me."

"But Martin, maybe we could…"

"Don't interrupt. You wanted me to explain, so hear out all the facts before you give me your views please."

"OK Martin."

I held my tongue so that he would continue.

"The second option is for me to work part of the week over there, the rest of the week back here. It's not actually that unusual for consultants to split their time between two different locations. As long as there is a good team of supporting junior doctors to deal with all the admin and routine dross, that frees up the senior consultant to concentrate on the more specialist cases."

"I see. So how many days would you need to be in Truro?"

"I can't see how it could be any less than three for it to be a workable option. So that would mean staying over a couple of nights a week. Their hands are pretty much tied incentive wise, they can't offer the kind of deal that a private clinic could as a sweetener because they have to stick within NHS guidelines, but they have offered me accommodation, some kind of a staff flat to stay over in."

"But then that would mean you'd only be here at your practice two days a week," I said.

"I'd have to take on a partner to work the days that I'd be away. I told you there was a lot to consider. And I'm really not sure about working away."

"But what about the actual job? How do you feel about that? Is it something that you would be interested in doing?" I quizzed Martin. But I already knew the answer. Of course he was interested, how could he not be?

"Well the project is at an early stage, it would need a lot of input, but it does seem to have the potential to be a worthwhile enterprise. They've managed to secure funding for a whole new surgical suite, which is pretty impressive in the middle of a recession."

"Sounds like a great thing to be get in on right at the start Martin."

"Yes, but being away from you and James is _not_ something I want."

"But I don't want to hold you back Martin. You've already turned down one fantastic opportunity in London to be with us. Surely we can try to work out some sort of compromise, so please don't turn anything down until we've had a chance to talk it through properly and think about it. I want you to be happy and fulfilled, not bitter and resentful at having to remain in the village. How did you leave things with them?"

"They've told me to take the time to think about it over the Christmas holidays and get back to them in the New Year."

"Good. Then that's what we shall do Martin. _TALK_ about it,"

"Not sure that there is anything to talk about really Louisa. I turned down the London post because I want to be with you, so it doesn't really make sense for me to take another position that still takes me away does it? Anyway, as I said, lots to think about, so let's leave it at that for the moment hmm? What are your plans for the weekend?"

"I've prepared a list for you Martin," I told him. He had said that he needed me to give him clear instructions of what I wanted him to do, so now I did exactly that by preparing detailed instructions.

"Oh God, not bloody Christmas preparations. I _hate_ Christmas!" he grumbled miserably as he read my list of jobs.

"Maybe I can change your mind about that," I said with a little smile, thinking of my special Christmas themed outfit that had just arrived , strictly for private viewing by Martin only.

"I very much doubt it," Martin said sourly.

_To be continued…_

For any readers unused to English cooking.

_**Toad in the Hole**_ is a traditional English dish consisting of sausages in Yorkshire pudding batter, usually served with vegetables and onion gravy.

_**HP Sauce**_ is a popular bottled spicy brown sauce in England. It is usually used as a condiment with hot or cold savoury food, or as an ingredient in soups or stews.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 4**

I'd always prided myself on keeping up with all the latest treatments and medical developments for my patients, I considered it to be an essential part of my responsibilities. But that necessitated a large amount of reading and research, which had never really been a problem while I lived alone and had no other real responsibilities apart from my GP role.

But of course now I had other demands on my time. Apart from sharing the care of James Henry, which I was more than happy to do, I was trying my best to work on my relationship with Louisa. Much as I undoubtedly loved her, I still struggled to understand her a lot of the time. She clearly suffered from some sort of insecurity complex, which I put down to her very unsettled upbringing by her dreadful parents. It meant that she could be quite defensive and take offence easily, so I often ended up scared to open my mouth in case I put my foot in it. And then of course Louisa complained that I didn't talk to her enough. At times it seemed that I just couldn't win.

So however tempting the surgical position in Truro was to me, I was struggling to see how the separation involved in my taking up the role even part time could possibly be a good thing for our relationship, despite Louisa's insistence that I seriously consider it. Therefore I decided that I should just concentrate on Louisa and James. My precious hard won family _had_ to come first, and I would be just fine continuing as Portwenn's GP.

**xXx**

Louisa seemed to find it unreasonable if I tried to catch up on my British Medical Journal reading at bedtime. The other evening she had practically ripped it out of my hand and tossed it to the floor when she came to bed. But what followed next had more than compensated for my loss of reading matter. I was discovering that Louisa could be very determined to get her own way once she had set her mind to a romantic interlude between us.

Once I got used to this, I was only too happy to comply as I certainly didn't want to risk offending her by rejecting her advances. Luckily it was not usually a problem for me to rise to the occasion, despite many years of solitary bachelorhood – Louisa could instantly unlock a side of me that had been kept under strict control for many years,

I was just happy that at least that side of things between us seemed to be developing satisfactorily, as we found out our preferences to discover what worked for us. However, I thought that her demands were possibly attributable to some sort of hormonal imbalance due to pregnancy and lactating that had yet to settle, something that clearly I needed to investigate, although I was no longer officially Louisa's GP. Once I'd explained to Louisa that I could be struck off for having a sexual relationship with a patient, she'd immediately registered herself and James with Doctor Hearn over at Wadebridge, who was a decent enough doctor. Of course that didn't stop me in any way from monitoring their health, it was purely a technicality as far as I was concerned.

**xXx**

White Rose Cottage was finally being vacated by Mr Strain in the new year, so Louisa had not renewed her rental agreement on Mr Routledge's cottage when it had come to the end of the lease. We both much preferred her cottage and planned to move there as soon as it became vacant. So we were now temporarily living back in my place, above the surgery. Not ideal, but a suitable temporary stop gap.

I wanted to keep Louisa happy by not reading at bedtime, so I thought that once James Henry was settled for the evening, this would be a suitable time for me to spend an hour or so in my surgery catching up with my reading and research while Louisa either undertook her marking of school work, or watched television – something that I took little pleasure in. Occasionally there was a decent documentary that warranted viewing, but most of the programs that Louisa favoured seemed a total waste of time to me. Some period drama called Downton something or the other was her latest favourite I gathered, and also some dancing program with celebrities that I had never heard of and had not the slightest interest in.

One evening just before Christmas, I was reading a particularly relevant and fascinating article on female hormonal imbalances following pregnancy that I had found on the internet, when I realised that Louisa was calling me rather impatiently.

"Martin, I _said_ I need you for something."

"Hmm? Just a minute, I'm making some notes," I replied, not looking up as I finished what I was writing.

The next thing I knew, Louisa was swivelling my chair round to face her, and my eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw what she was wearing. It was a very short, bright red, shiny satin dress with a flared skirt that had some sort of white fur edging. Not only was the skirt very short, the top was extremely low cut to reveal a generous amount of her cleavage. It was topped off by a very silly Santa Claus style hat perched on top of her dark glossy hair that was tumbling down around her shoulders.

"Louisa! What on earth…" I found myself spluttering, unable to take my eyes off her.

"I just thought that maybe you might find Christmas a bit more enjoyable if Mrs Santa Claus paid you a visit," she told me huskily, as she sat herself on my lap, draped her arms around my neck and kissed me.

"I err…that is…I've never…" I struggled to string a cohesive sentence together. I'd noticed that Louisa seemed to take pleasure in shocking me at times by her behaviour, telling me that I needed to push my boundaries and not be so boring.

"No need to talk Martin, actions speak louder than words," Louisa whispered as she nibbled and nuzzled my ears. Ears are renowned as a highly erogenous zone, and as I had large ears, Louisa had quickly discovered that mine were especially sensitive to her ministrations. As she raked her fingers through the hair on the back of my neck, I found myself quickly becoming aroused, as Louisa undoubtedly knew that I would be.

Clearly her hormones were raging again and I had the onerous duty of satisfying this gorgeous, sexy creature who unbelievably wanted _me_ to fulfil her needs. I thanked my lucky stars daily that it was me she wanted to play these sexy games with, and so I tried my hardest to comply with her wishes, even if it went against my naturally rather conservative nature.

"Come on then, let's go upstairs to the bedroom as you seem so determined to sway my opinion about Christmas," I suggested, breathing hard as I felt my pulse racing. I tried to move to stand up.

"No Martin, let's stay right here," Louisa whispered in my ear, as she unbuttoned my jacket and started working on my tie as she remained sat on my lap.

"But…but this is my surgery, we can't possibly…I see my patients in here," I protested. A doctor has to be able to separate his personal and professional lives completely, and so in all my various fantasies about Louisa over the years, I had never let myself even think about anything happening between us here in my surgery.

"Mmm, I know but you see I've always wanted to…_you know_… have sex with you, right here, on your desk…or maybe on your examination couch," Louisa whispered as she took my hand and placed it on her naked thigh.

"Louisa!" I exclaimed, as I discovered that she wasn't wearing any underwear beneath her skimpy little outfit.

"Yes, Martin, I've gone commando, just for _you_," she told me as she nuzzled my neck. As she let her hands roam over my very evident hardness, she gave me a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased that her efforts were having the desired affect on me.

Of course my control was lost then, and I let myself be led over to my examination couch, not quite believing that this was happening.

"Maybe you would prefer to have me on your desk?" Louisa murmured in my ear, as she undid my trousers.

"I…err…don't mind…" I managed to gasp. "Whatever you prefer…"

"Well let's say examination couch this time, your desk next time, hmm?"

"Oh God Louisa, _next_ time?" I groaned. "What are you doing to me?"

"I'm showing you how much fun Christmas can be Martin. Just relax, allow yourself to be a bit naughty and let yourself go for a change."

With that she pulled me between her legs, her hat falling off and her little red dress riding up as she sat on the edge of my examination couch. Then she put her hands around my neck to pull me in for a long deep kiss, as she wrapped her legs around me.

"What on earth have I done to deserve you Louisa, I'm such a lucky man," I murmured as I grabbed hold of her hips, intensely aroused by now, eager to progress things, and thankful that there was a ready supply of condoms to hand in the surgery.

"I love you very much Martin, and I want our first Christmas together to be really memorable and happy, to wipe out all the other horrid ones you must have had to make you hate it so much," she told me, and then she tenderly kissed me on my lips.

Louisa was being so incredibly sweet and kind and loving towards me, and it made me feel very guilty for being miserable and grumpy about putting up the Christmas tree and lights for her last weekend – it really hadn't been that much to ask of me had it? But I had always hated Christmas, ever since I was a child and realised that it always made me feel like an outsider looking in on other people's happiness. Lonely Christmas times spent as virtually the only child left at Boarding School while my parents went on cruises to far off exotic locations. Not being allowed to go and stay with Aunt Joan and Uncle Phil, not understanding why until many years later. Those were the kind of memories Christmas always evoked for me.

Once I started Medical School, I always volunteered to work over the Christmas period, I was quite happy to forgo all the stupid frivolity and drunken escapades that the other students seemed compelled to take part in. That was how Edith and I had become close, when she also volunteered to take on extra duties over Christmas. It transpired that she came from a very similar family to mine, and that she also considered Christmas a vacuous waste of time. Her background probably helped to explain why she had turned out to be such a cold hearted bitch, one who had had no compunction at all about breaking a young man's heart by choosing a career opportunity over him. And that had been at Christmas time too, funnily enough.

Edith was about as opposite to Louisa as it was possible to be. My Louisa – in my mind I had always thought of Louisa as 'mine', even when she had been consorting with that creep Danny Steele – my Louisa was such a warm, caring, loving woman, and I still didn't really understand what on earth it was that she saw in a big ugly brute like me. I often wondered if she regarded me as yet another of her lame duck projects, a lonely soul that she alone could rescue. Of course now we had an eternal link between us with our son, the best accident that had ever happened to me as far as I was concerned. I was so grateful and full of admiration for Louisa because she had gone ahead with the pregnancy despite being on her own. I still regretted intensely the fact that she had not felt able to turn to me for support and help. The fact that I was now sacrificing some of my career prospects to be with her and James Henry was a very small price to pay I felt.

I knew that I could trust her to ensure that our son would grow up always surrounded by love, not only at Christmas but all year round. So now it was up to me to appreciate what I had, stop acting like a miserable bugger, and make an effort to ensure that I didn't cast a shadow over Christmas, for both their sakes. And I realised that actually it wasn't going be that difficult because I had to admit that Louisa was going out of her way to make this Christmas unlike any other that I had experienced in my life before, and I also had to admit that I was already rather enjoying it.

And one thing was certain. As we now made wonderful, passionate love together on the examination couch in my surgery, I realised that life with Louisa was _never_ going to be dull.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 5**

The 'Mrs Santa Claus' outfit had been worth every penny. It had meant that I'd finally got to act out the little fantasy that I'd been harbouring ever since I'd very first met Martin – to have sex with him right there in his surgery. It had been deliciously naughty and I'd absolutely loved it – and so had Martin once he'd got over his initial shock.

Martin was undoubtedly the most _un_romantic man I'd ever met. But with his anatomical expertise, he was by far the most technically accomplished lover I had ever had – not of course that there had actually been that many. I had never been the kind of girl who slept around or went in for one night stands, and when I was studying, I'd tried very hard not to let myself be distracted by men. Being let down by my first lover, Danny Steele, when we were teenagers, had made me determined to be independent and not reliant on any man, so I'd concentrated instead on working very hard at college, determined to succeed in my career and make a decent life for myself. In any case, it was very hard to find anyone that I felt I could really trust among my fellow students, they all seemed very silly and immature, preoccupied as they were with endlessly going out and getting drunk.

But then there had been Graham, the older college lecturer, whom I'd thought was so mature and that I had so much in common with - that was until I'd found out that he was married. Bastard.

After that, there had been Edward, the Head Teacher of the school where I was sent for my teaching practice. He turned out to be one of those men who liked the thrill of the chase. He was absolutely charming – until he'd bedded me – then he'd completely lost interest and dropped me like a stone. Bastard.

The common thread seemed to be that I always fell for older, more mature men in positions of authority, whom I naively assumed would be more reliable. Of course they were nothing of the kind.

So I had vowed to avoid smooth talking men, who glibly promised the world, especially when it dawned on me that it was an all too familiar repeating pattern from the years spent listening to my charming but deceitful father.

Instead I had redoubled my efforts to concentrate on my career, and achieve my dream to get my own Headship. And I had, and that was why I was so determined to carry on working even though I was now a mother – I had worked so hard to claw my way up to reach my goal that I just couldn't give it up. It was also why I understood Martin's drive to overcome his phobia and become a surgeon again, and why I was determined that despite his extreme reluctance to even discuss the surgeons position in Truro with me, after Christmas I was going to force him to sit down with me to find some solution, some compromise to enable him to resume his surgical career. James and I would _not _be responsible for holding him back, not when he was clearly an incredibly gifted man who could help patients in desperate need of those gifts.

Martins' shyness, lack of charm and small talk was probably one of the reasons that I had initially been drawn to him – that and the fact that he was such a big, tall imposing man, which I found very attractive. Of course he fitted the usual pattern of an older man in a position of authority, but he was so completely different to any other man that I had ever met. And he was a doctor, and I had always had a thing about doctors, as my friend Isabel had embarrassingly reminded me on that fateful day that Martin and I had been going to get married, although of course I had tried to deny it to her. As a little girl, I think it must have seemed to me that a doctor must be the most reliable and trustworthy type of man there was.

Even so, the first time that Martin and I had made love, when I had woken up the following morning to see him dressed and about to leave without saying anything to me, it had seemed that history was repeating itself yet again, prompting me to panic a bit as I'd asked him '_You're not sneaking off are you?'_

But to my great relief, Martin really was not like that, and now that we were giving our relationship another go, it was thrilling for me to discover the power I had over this great big gruff man, who was normally so reserved and restrained.

I was sure that it was doing him good to let his hair down and not be so stuffy. I had a funny feeling that his dear Auntie Joan would have approved heartily. She had hinted to me several times in the past that she felt her nephew needed a 'good woman' to 'sort him out', said with a big wink and a smile, and I liked to think that she would approve of me as that 'good woman'.

**xXx**

At least since our little episode in his surgery, Martin seemed to be making a real effort not to be so bloody miserable about Christmas.

Unusually, he didn't make any comment or even scowl at me as I sang along to my Michael Buble 'Christmas' album that I had downloaded onto my ipod. Music was an area that we rarely agreed on. He had very conservative tastes that favoured classical music, some of which I did like. However, while I prided myself on having an eclectic taste in all sorts of music, Martin considered anything even relatively modern as 'rubbish', and often asked me to turn my music down or off, especially in the car.

I was surprised when there was no pithy comment from Martin as he watched me dressing James Henry in yet another of the Christmas themed outfits I'd been unable to resist buying. He just looked so adorable and cute in all of them - this was a green stripy one with a picture of Santa and his elves across the front, and it had matching little stripy socks and hat too.

"Ooh, my gorgeous boy is just _so_ handsome," I told James as I did it up, then picked him up to kiss his chubby little face. James responded by laughing and giggling back at me as he waved his hands and kicked his legs excitedly. He wasn't perhaps the easiest of babies, but I put that down to the fact that he was clearly a very bright and intelligent little boy who needed lots of stimulation to keep him amused. As long as he was given attention, he was usually a very happy and smiley baby these days.

I handed James over to Martin, and watched his face soften as his son gave him a huge beaming smile. Unconditional love from your child is a wonderful thing, as Martin was discovering. It gave me more pleasure, more happiness than I could ever possibly have imagined to see the close bond that was developing between Martin and his son. I felt my heart swell with love for both of them, and I vowed to myself that we just _had_ to make our relationship work.

"It's Christmas Eve Martin," I reminded him gently.

"Yes, I am aware of that Louisa."

"So, are you finishing surgery early?"

"I believe my last consultation has been booked at 4pm. Of course there is always the chance of a last minute emergency that requires my intervention. But I shall endeavour to finish up promptly to be able to assist you with the preparations, as detailed on the list that you have prepared for me."

"Thank you Martin, that would be lovely," I smiled tenderly at him, as I reached up to peck first his cheek and then James Henry's.

"Umm Louisa…"

"Yes, Martin?"

"About Christmas presents. Look, I just wanted to warn you that I'm not really any good at this sort of thing, so I don't want you to get your hopes up and then be disappointed," he told me, with a rather sheepish look on his face.

"Oh Martin! I'm not bothered about expensive presents or things like that, and James Henry certainly isn't. All I want is for us to spend a happy family day together."

"Yes, I know, but I see you've already put some presents under the tree, and I'm afraid in comparison mine aren't going to look very impressive."

"You mean you've actually bought some presents?" I asked in surprise. I'd told myself not to expect anything from Martin considering his attitude to Christmas up to now.

"Of course I have. I do understand the concept of exchanging gifts at Christmas, even if I'm not an enthusiastic participant Louisa."

"Wow. I'm really impressed Martin, so please don't worry. Anything that you've taken the trouble to get is going to be lovely I'm sure," I assured him.

"Hmm," Martin muttered, clearly not convinced.

**xXx**

Much as I loved my job, I also loved the school holidays. I could spend all day with my baby, catch up on all sorts of chores, and cook some of my favourite things. This was especially true of the Christmas break, although Martin had already made his views known on a lot of the traditional Christmas food a few weeks ago, when he'd noticed me looking up recipes.

"Far too many calories, loaded with sugar and fat, so I really wouldn't recommend you bother to make a Christmas Pudding or cake. Same applies to mince pies. I certainly won't be consuming anything like that, and neither should you Louisa. I've told you before that weight gained at your age is very hard to shift."

I'd just looked at him and sighed, before trying to find something else that fitted the bill that he would approve of. I thought that it would prove to be pretty impossible – Christmas was just not a very healthy diet time of year.

But then we'd sat down together to plan our Christmas meal, and actually it had turned out to be fun. Martin prided himself on being quite a food expert, and wanted to use only the very best, finest ingredients for our Christmas meal, insisting that cost was not an issue – quite a novel approach for someone like me who'd always had to work to a fairly tight budget.

We discovered that we both enjoyed smoked salmon, so he said he'd order in the very finest direct from Scotland for him to prepare as our starter, along with a special dressing that he would make. He approved of roast turkey, so he offered to organise an organic, free range bird to be delivered. I offered to make my home made Cranberry sauce to accompany it as it was far nicer – and healthier - than shop bought, and Martin told me that he would make the gravy.

I even got him to agree that a few roast potatoes were allowed, as long as they were cooked in sunflower oil, which was healthier than goose fat or lard. Plenty of vegetables, including the obligatory Brussels sprouts, would complete the main meal.

As I'd never actually been that keen on traditional Christmas Pudding, I was quite happy to prepare a fresh fruit salad for dessert instead, using as many different fruits as I could get hold of. Martin gave his full approval to this, and even agreed that we should serve up low fat crème fraiche with it. He said that he would organise a suitable cheese board too.

I think that by the end of our planning, we were both really looking forward to our Christmas meal, having agreed that we would invite Martin's Aunt Ruth to join us. I was just happy that we had actually planned something _together_ and relieved that we had found _something_ - a love of food and cooking - that we had in common. It sometimes worried me that although I now believed that we did undoubtedly love one another, at times it seemed as if our baby was all that we really had in common.

I was very sad to think that Martin's Auntie Joan was not around to join in our festivities, as I was sure that he must be, although he had never really opened up to talk about his feelings on the subject. I made a mental note to ask Ruth for her advice about this, the next time a suitable opportunity presented itself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 6**

Maybe this Christmas malarkey wasn't so bad after all I thought, not if you spent it in the right company. And this Christmas I most certainly was in the right company.

James Henry was sat in his little seat next to me, dressed in yet another of Louisa's choice of festive themed outfits, this time a bright red one. He was watching wide eyed at everything going on around him, having had a couple of spoonfuls of his first Christmas lunch – pureed carrot, which he'd pulled a face at before deciding that he quite liked it. Hopefully that would keep him happy long enough for Louisa to enjoy her meal before he demanded his next feed, but I would happily give him a bottle if required. For now he was happily sucking his thumb as he clutched his favourite blue blanket, the type with a silky ribbon edge. Certainly far better than him having a disgusting dummy, but still something that I would be keeping an eye on. If James Henry continued to suck his thumb as he grew older, it could lead to him developing a dental deformity. And I certainly didn't want him to be one of those children who trailed a grubby blanket around with him everywhere. Louisa told me not to worry so much, and that he would grow out of it when he was older. In any case, since discovering his thumb and his cuddly blanket, he usually settled far more quickly and easily, so neither of us wished to upset the status quo for now.

Aunt Ruth was sat on the other side of me. So far she had behaved herself quite well and had not made any unwelcome pronouncements regarding the state of mine and Louisa's relationship. But as she was already downing her second glass of the champagne that she had brought as her contribution to our meal, I feared that it wouldn't be too long before she felt the need to make some comment in her usual forthright Ellingham manner. She'd got Al to drop her down to us, and would no doubt be expecting me to take her back to the farm later, as she knew that I never drank alcohol, and so could be relied upon to be in a fit state to drive.

Louisa was sitting opposite me, looking beautiful as usual, dressed in a very becoming silver and red dress, positively glowing with happiness – or maybe that was the effect of the small glass of champagne that Ruth had insisted on giving her, ignoring my protests and stating that it would do her no harm, much to Louisa's obvious delight.

The meal had turned out well enough, despite the fact that Louisa and I had got a little irritated with each other earlier as we'd tripped over each other in the kitchen while sharing the preparations. Frankly, in a lot of ways it would have been far easier to just have dealt with it by myself, but I realised that would not have been very companionable, so I'd done my best to remain pleasant. I had ensured that the turkey was fully cooked through by using a special cooking thermometer with a probe to confirm it had reached the correct temperature. Louisa had watched me, impressed I believe by my attention to detail to ensure that we would not be at risk of food poisoning.

I glanced over at the Christmas tree stood in the corner of the lounge, which Louisa had spent hours decorating and fussing over. I had to admit that it did look very festive and cheerful, even if it was slightly wonky, despite my best attempts to get the wretched thing to stand perfectly upright – that was just the shape it was. However it was the presents piled up under it that were worrying me, which we'd agreed we would open after lunch. When Louisa had asked me whether I had a preference for opening them before or after lunch, I'd been very tempted to reply '_how about not at all'_. I knew that buying presents for females was an absolute minefield, and I was not at all confident that I had got it right with what I had chosen for her. Aunt Ruth and I had agreed years ago that we wouldn't bother with presents, although Louisa had insisted on buying her a gift this year as she would be spending Christmas Day with us. Aunt Joan had always been very happy with the cheque that I'd given her each year, but I had a feeling that Louisa would not be so easily pleased, whatever she might have said about not minding what I gave her.

Dear Auntie Joan. The first Christmas without her. The only person in the past who had ever tried to make Christmas a happy time for me, missing James Henry's first Christmas. I just couldn't bear to think about it, so I shut my mind to the memories that were flooding back to me, and forced myself to just concentrate on today. But when Ruth and Louisa raised their glasses at the end of the meal in a toast to her memory, I suddenly found myself overcome with emotion, struggling to prevent the hot tears that were pricking at the back of my eyes from escaping in an embarrassing show of weakness.

But as I glanced around, I realised that both Louisa and Ruth had tears rolling down their cheeks, and as Louisa took my hand and squeezed it, she said quietly,

"It's alright Martin. It's alright to get a little emotional. It's normal, it's how you _should_ feel when you lose someone you love."

Ruth was looking over and smiling her agreement, and even James Henry was smiling up at me.

I didn't say anything for a moment. I just squeezed Louisa's hand back to show her that I appreciated her support, just as I had at the funeral when she'd slipped her hand in mine.

Then I pulled myself together, cleared my throat and said,

"Right then, I'd better give James his feed before he starts yelling."

I picked him up and held him close as he gurgled happily at me, and somehow just having my son in my arms made me feel a whole lot better.

**xXx**

By the time that I had fed, winded and changed James, Louisa and Ruth had cleared away, loaded up the dishwasher and set it running. The baby was now pretty sleepy and ready for his afternoon nap, but Louisa didn't want him put down away from us in his cot, so she insisted that I sit and cuddle him while she took some more photos as a record of his first Christmas – she must have taken hundreds by now, but then she was always taking pictures of him. I didn't raise any objections, because actually it felt very nice to just sit with the warm, sleepy little bundle in my arms, a luxury that I didn't often have time for.

First off, Louisa gave Aunt Ruth her gift, a rather nice cream coloured cashmere scarf.

"Well thank you my dear, it's very welcome actually as I do feel the cold down here in Cornwall. It's always so bloody windy."

Louisa had clearly hit the mark there , because Aunt Ruth would certainly have had no compunction in telling her if she had considered the gift to be rubbish.

"I think we'd better give James his presents next hmm?" Louisa then suggested with a big smile. This seemed a rather pointless exercise to me – she had bought most of his presents, she had wrapped them, and now she was going to unwrap them for him, seeing as he was way too young to have the foggiest idea of what on earth was going on. But if that was what Louisa wanted, I couldn't see any harm in it. But I could see Aunt Ruth out of the corner of my eye, and by her rather cynical expression, I realised that she knew exactly what I was thinking and seemed to be almost willing me to say something and put my foot in it - she had a very mischievous streak at times, in a way that Aunt Joan never had.

Louisa worked her way through James' presents from her – she had put on the labels that they were from both of us, but I hadn't really taken any part in their selection even though she had tried to explain to me why she had chosen the ones that she had. They included a variety of activity type toys that claimed to be educational, as well as several new books. She had assured me that they were all suitable for the next stage of his development, and James certainly seemed to find the bright colours and shapes intriguing as he stared at them.

Then she moved on to his other presents – her mother had sent an entirely unsuitable outfit over from Spain. Clearly she had not taken into account how much James would have grown since she had last seen him as it was obviously too small and in any case would not have been suitable for an English winter as it was a vest style of garment made of very thin fabric.

"Never mind, it's the thought that counts, at least she remembered to send something," Louisa said breezily.

Not much thought there at all in my opinion, typical of the woman, and I would be disposing of her gift in the bin first chance I got as it no doubt reeked of cigarette smoke.

Next Louisa opened up an envelope addressed to 'James Henry' in Ruth's distinctive handwriting.

"I'm afraid I don't go in for toys and all that sort of thing, and in any case he already seems to have enough to stock a toy shop," Ruth informed us with a raised eyebrow, as she continued quaffing more champagne.

"Oh, that's very kind of you," exclaimed Louisa, as she handed me the evidence of a savings account set up in his name, with a generous opening balance.

"Well as his God Mother, I plan to add to it regularly, and then when he's older, I thought you could use it towards his education. I'm sure Martin will be able to advise you on the best options for the child, whatever the situation may be between the pair of you by then."

Aunt Ruth seemed not to notice Louisa's look of horror, but I caught it, and hurriedly interceded.

"I'm sure that Louisa and I will undoubtedly decide _together_, both about James's education, and the best use for any funds that he is lucky enough to be the recipient of."

I emphasised the word 'together' as I looked over at Louisa to try to convey my thoughts to her. I recalled now how Ruth became even more brutally honest than usual when she had imbibed a few alcoholic drinks.

"Yes, that's what I said Martin. I have every faith that you will always be on hand, whatever the circumstances, to select an appropriate school for your son. And as you are my only nephew, and James Henry is likely to be your only progeny, I'm happy to help financially to ensure that he gets the best possible education. It really is most important in this day and age, especially if he is to follow in the Ellingham tradition and study for a medical degree."

I could see that Louisa was practically fit to burst now.

"Thank you Ruth, you are very kind. But may I remind you that I am in fact a Head Teacher, and I have spent the whole of my professional career ensuring that each and every child that I am responsible for receives the best possible education, to enable them to achieve their potential, regardless of their background or the financial status of their parents. I believe therefore, that I am more than capable of organising our sons' education to ensure that he reaches his full potential, be it in the Ellingham tradition or otherwise."

When Louisa was angry, her Cornish accent became more pronounced than usual. It was now very pronounced indeed.

To try to diffuse the situation, as Ruth started huffing about only wanting to help, I attempted to change the subject, as I shifted James Henry in my arms. He was now fast asleep and oblivious of the debate his future education was causing.

"What about opening that parcel there?" I asked, pointing out the one that I had bought for James.

Louisa looked at me for a few seconds, before taking a deep breath and reaching under the tree for the present in question. Clearly she was trying her best to not let things develop into a full blown argument, and as she held the present, I took her hand, and squeezed it.

"Don't mind her," I whispered as I nodded over towards Ruth, who was now beginning to doze off in her chair.

"I know she's your aunt Martin, but sometimes she makes my blood boil!" she whispered back furiously.

"You'll get used to her," I said, watching as Louisa opened my present for James. As I'd ordered it to include gift wrapping, I hadn't actually seen my purchase yet, so I was quite anxious to see if it was satisfactory.

"Oh Martin, it's gorgeous!" exclaimed Louisa. "But maybe it's too good for him to have just now, I mean he'll dribble all over it. Perhaps I'll put it on his shelf in his room for now, where he can see it."

I'd decided to stick with a traditional gift, not having a clue about any of the latest fads or gimmicks. So I'd looked on the Hamleys toy shop website, and picked out a traditional teddy bear. I remembered fondly having a teddy bear of my own, although it had disappeared when I went off to boarding school.

"It's up to you Louisa. Do what you think best, but I can assure you that it meets all the necessary safety standards."

"I'm sure that it does Martin, I would expect nothing less from you. It's lovely and I'm sure he'll love it when he's a bit older," Louisa replied, smiling as she discovered that the teddy had a growl too.

Then she looked down at James sleeping in my arms. "Do you want to put him down now, he's out for the count. I can bring his Moses basket in if you like, he just about fits in it still."

Louisa fetched the basket and put it next to me on the sofa, and I somewhat reluctantly put James down for his nap and gently tucked him in. He looked so perfect as he slept, making the motions of sucking in his sleep despite the fact that his thumb had now slipped out of his mouth.

As a result of all the good food and several glasses of champagne, Ruth was now also sleeping, snoring gently and slumped sideways in the armchair, her mouth gaping open just a little.

"Here's your present from James Henry," Louisa smiled, as she handed me a package.

"He's very advanced for his age isn't he, if he can go shopping and wrap presents," I pointed out sarcastically as I unwrapped it.

It was a large photo of James Henry in a plain silver frame. He was dressed in one of my favourite outfits – a plain blue romper suit with a little Peter Rabbit figure on the front.

"I had it taken when the official photographer came into school. I think he just looks so sweet and cute, don't you Martin?"

I had to admit the photographer had caught him perfectly. Our son was smiling his gorgeous wide smile which I had no doubt he had inherited from his mother rather than from me. I had always thought that Louisa had the most perfect smile.

"It is a very good likeness," I agreed, as I continued to look at it.

"Don't you think that we've been very clever to have made such a perfect baby together?" Louisa asked happily, as she leant over to kiss first my cheek and then James Henry's.

"Just down to genetics. Luck of the draw." I replied gruffly.

"But you do agree that he's just _perfect_ don't you? I mean not that we are in any way biased of course," Louisa insisted.

"Yes, I agree he's perfect. And very lucky to have a mother like you to dote on him," I stated, and was rewarded by Louisa flashing me that beautiful smile and giving me another kiss as she told me,

"And a daddy like you to look up to."

I still found it somewhat odd to hear myself referred to as 'daddy', but I was slowly getting used to it.

"Why don't you open your present from me now?" I suggested, anxious to get it over and done with while I seemed to be in Louisa's good books.

"OK Martin, I think it's this one isn't it?" Clearly Louisa had already been examining what was under the Christmas tree, as without hesitation she put her hand straight to the one from me. It too had come ready gift wrapped, and I had simply had to add my own personal gift card.

_To Louisa, Love Martin._

That was all that was necessary to put, that said it all, succinct and to the point. I held my breath as she unwrapped it.

"Oh my God Martin! How did you know? I've wanted one of these for _ages_!"

Well that was a relief, she seemed to be pleased anyway – or else was putting on a very good act. I'd worried that my gift was somewhat lacking in the 'romance' department, but I'd decided that I was better off sticking with something that I felt I knew slightly more about and understood better.

"An iPad! Everyone says they're great but they are so expensive, so I couldn't justify…but you really shouldn't have," Louisa babbled excitedly as she got it out of the box.

"I researched thoroughly the specifications and exactly what it is capable of, and after comparing it to the other available devices, I came to the conclusion that it would be the most appropriate one for your needs as it efficiently stores photos and music as well as being able to use it for the internet. I initially considered a simple digital photo frame, but on further consideration, I felt that an iPad would be the most versatile and therefore preferred option," I explained my thought process.

"I'm really thrilled with it Martin, I think you've excelled yourself, this is far more than I ever expected, so thank you very much indeed," Louisa gave me a big hug and kiss to prove her point.

"I understand that there are some very useful apps that can be downloaded onto it as well, including some very good diet and exercise ones, which you may find useful after Christmas if you continue to eat to excess…"

"And leave it right there Martin, don't you _dare_ say any more," Louisa said, and the warning glint in her eye was enough to stop me in my tracks, even as she clamped her hand over my mouth to emphasise her point.

"Anyway, I think it's about time you opened your first present from me."

"You didn't have to get me anything you know, I really don't need anything," I told her as I took it.

"Yes I did, it wouldn't be Christmas if I didn't give you a gift too."

The present was beautifully wrapped in shiny silver and red paper that almost matched the dress Louisa was wearing, and it had a red ribbon with a bow on it. There was a gift card, on which she'd written:

_To Martin, with all my love on this our first Christmas together, Louisa xxx_

Louisa came and sat next to me on the sofa. I unwrapped it to find a box containing a new tie. It was a silk one, in a blue colour with quite a jazzy pattern on it. I looked at the label and discovered that it was the same make that I always wore.

"Oh, thank you, how did you obtain it? I always get them when I'm up in London, I didn't think they were available down here in Cornwall."

"I looked them up and found out they have a website. Even old traditional firms do these days you know. So then I chose the pattern I liked best and ordered it. I hope you like it. I thought some of yours are a bit …well dull, to be honest."

The pattern was certainly not one that I would have chosen, but it was growing on me, and if Louisa liked it, then I would at least try it.

"You know, you really aren't a very easy man to buy for, so the rest of your Christmas presents come later, when we're…_alone_," Louisa whispered in my ear as she glanced over at Ruth, still lolling in her chair as she dozed.

"I shall look forward to that. I was maybe hoping…" I hesitated, feeling a little shy about what I wanted to suggest.

"Yes, Martin, go on, what were you hoping?"

"That perhaps Mrs Santa could pay another visit as it's actually Christmas now. That is, if you felt up to it, if you're not too tired…" I muttered to her quietly as I felt myself blushing. But I hadn't been able to get that outfit out of my mind, and I kept replaying that session between us over and over in my head.

"Oh yes Martin, I think that could _certainly_ be arranged. And you could choose just where you would like the visit to take place. I think there was mention of your desk in the surgery next time, wasn't there?" Louisa wrapped her arms around my neck as she whispered in my ear. I was pretty hot now and could feel that I was blushing right to the tips of my ears, a sure giveaway of my excited state of anticipation.

"I think the bedroom would be best," I hurriedly assured her. After the previous time in my surgery, I'd had the devil of a job the next day trying to keep my thoughts from wandering, especially when I'd had to instruct a patient to get up on the examination couch, remembering what Louisa and I had got up to on there just a few hours before. I really felt it was best to keep my love life totally separate from my professional one.

"We'll have to see about that," Louisa whispered back, as she tantalisingly nibbled my ear lobe and nuzzled my neck. Then I caught my breath as she just casually brushed her hand across the straining bulge in my trousers, and I realised that I would most likely be unable to resist whatever she proposed later.…

"Sorry to interrupt you two love birds, but what does one have to do to get a decent cup of coffee around here?" Aunt Ruth demanded, as she yawned widely, and then gave us a knowing look as she raised her eyebrows at us.

Oh God! How long had she been awake, and how much had she heard of our conversation, I wondered, blushing even more furiously. I jumped up immediately like a guilty schoolboy.

"I'll…err, just put a pot of coffee on," I said, as I hurried out to the kitchen to busy myself.

"Fancy a game of Scrabble then Ruth?" I heard Louisa ask.

"You're on. But I warn you now Louisa that I'm quite a dab hand at it, so you'd better make sure you're fully concentrating on _this_ game, and not any others that you have in mind for later with my nephew," Ruth replied.

Ruth was certainly excelling herself this year with her pronouncements. Even from the kitchen I could hear the deafening shocked silence from Louisa, and I could only imagine her expression.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 7**

"You do know that Louisa has got you wrapped round her little finger don't you Martin?"

"I don't know what you mean Aunt Ruth," I protested. I'd driven her back after she had spent Christmas Day with us, and had now pulled up outside the farm.

"Oh come on, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Turning down the London job to stay in this little village with her and the child. Then turning down the job in Truro because she doesn't want to move there either. Seems to me this relationship of yours is built purely on what Louisa wants, even if it isn't what you want."

"That is not true. It's entirely my choice to remain here, no one is forcing me," I stated.

"But you said it yourself, you hate it here in the village. So what happens if things don't work out between you and Louisa hmm? There are only so many times you are going to be offered these plum positions you know. Then you'll be stuck here, in a job that bores you, all by yourself."

"Well thanks for that vote of confidence in our relationship. For your information we are getting along just fine, things are working out very well between us actually."

"Yes, I can see that - in the bedroom anyway, or wherever else it is that you choose to conduct your love life. Clearly there is a strong sexual attraction between the two of you, any fool can see that. Oh don't look at me like that Martin, it's simply basic human nature, nothing to be embarrassed about."

I squirmed in my seat at the thought of Aunt Ruth overhearing the very private and personal conversation between Louisa and myself earlier.

"Louisa is a very attractive woman, and I can understand how you would be drawn to her. And to her, you've always been this unattainable figure head, the unavailable man of authority. That's a very powerful turn on for a woman you know, to discover that she can wield her sexual power over a man like you."

"Is this your professional psychological assessment of our relationship then?" I asked witheringly.

"All I'm saying Martin is that when the sexual thrill wears off, you could end up feeling very resentful of her for holding you back. After all, what do you actually have in common? Hobbies? I can't see Louisa finding mending clocks exactly an enthralling evening's entertainment somehow. Music? The classical type of music that you like is not to everyone's taste, and I imagine Louisa probably favours much more contemporary choices. Your background and upbringing are completely different to hers. Politically I imagine you are poles apart – you are a true blue Tory, while from Louisa's rather extreme over reaction to my offer of help with private school fees, she is quite clearly of the New Labour Socialist ilk. You are a man of science and medicine, while I gather Louisa majored in English Literature and Language, which incidentally, you might have told me before I played her at Scrabble."

"You never asked. I can't help it if you judged Louisa by her appearance and were too shallow to realise that she is a whole lot more than just a pretty face," I stated with some satisfaction. I myself had looked at Louisa with new respect when she'd quite easily beaten my aunt at Scrabble, as it turned out that she was somewhat of an expert in the English Language.

I was rather ashamed to realise that apart from knowing that Louisa had trained as a teacher, I didn't actually have a clue about which subjects she'd specialised in at college, other than it obviously wouldn't have been medicine.

I don't think it helped either that I had also beaten Aunt Ruth at Chess when we'd played a game after Louisa had taken James Henry off to feed him when he'd woken up from his nap. That would teach Ruth to keep a clear head and lay off the alcohol, which she really ought to anyway with her Sjögren's Syndrome.

"I've never made any such judgement about Louisa. Actually, the more I get to know her, the more intriguing and interesting I find her. I like someone who has a bit of spirit about them, argues back and stands up for what they believe in. Certainly better than being boring and bland."

"Well there you are then. You've just described in a nutshell why I enjoy being with Louisa, and why I'm prepared to make some compromises to enable us to continue with our relationship. Opposites can attract, as the old saying goes. We worried before that we were too different to make each other happy and called off our wedding. But I found out the hard way that being without Louisa is far worse than any changes or compromises that I might have to make to be with her. And now we have our child to consider too – and yes, I know, you've already said that we shouldn't stay together just for his sake. But nevertheless, his birth does change things, he needs to be brought up in a stable and secure environment."

"Well if you're so sure about things, how come you haven't set another date to get married yet?"

"There's no rush. All in good time," I answered brusquely. This was a rather sore point between Louisa and myself that I didn't care to elaborate on to Ruth at the moment.

"Look, don't get me wrong Martin, I'm just playing Devils' Advocate. I really hope that things do work out between you, I'm just being honest and realistic in telling you how I see things, that's all."

"Thank you for your concern Aunt. You are not the first to express such views you know. Joan also warned me that she felt that Louisa and I were chalk and cheese. Just a shame that she's not here to see…" I choked on my words now.

"Yes, that bloody woman! How dare she choose now to pop her clogs and leave me her wretched farm. I don't know what to do for the best – stay here, write my book and spend a fortune on getting the place sorted out, or sell up and move back to my job at Broadmoor, and my nice, easy to maintain London flat. I've taken a sabbatical for now, but at some point I'm going to have to make a decision about whether to return or not."

"It's your choice Aunt. Can't say as I've ever seen you as the Country Life type, and I think you'll have to at least treat yourself to a decent pair of wellies if you decide to stay on. But people can change, and maybe it would do you good to try a different lifestyle, even if it wasn't how you envisaged spending this period of your life."

"Is that the voice of experience I'm hearing from you Martin?"

"I'm merely pointing out that life plans aren't set in stone, so consider all the options before you make your decision. You'll probably find now that when you're here, you miss London, but when you're in London, you really miss Cornwall. Bloody irritating actually."

"Well thanks for the advice anyway, and also for inviting me to join your little family for your Christmas Day bash. It's been a lot of fun, and I shall of course be demanding a re-match from you for a game of Chess and from Louisa for a game of Scrabble, when I have a clearer head. Don't let me drink so much next time eh?"

"As if anyone can tell you what to do Aunt."

"Right well, you'd better hurry up and get back to your place – can't keep Louisa waiting for your assignation can you?"

**xXx**

"You were gone a long time, everything alright?" Louisa queried when I got back. I found her upstairs in the nursery, where she was just changing James and getting him ready to hopefully settle down for the night.

"Err…yes. Ruth just wanted some advice because she is trying to decide whether or not to go back to London. If she does stay on here, she will need to invest a considerable amount of money on renovating the farm house, everything needs replacing and updating to bring it up to scratch. Joan never had the funds to do anything more than just patch it up," I explained.

"It is in a beautiful spot though, isn't it? I've always thought it has the most wonderful views. Had Joan told you that she was leaving the farm to her sister rather than you?"

"Oh yes, we'd discussed it, as she wanted me to be the executor of her will. I told her that I was already financially secure so didn't need the funds, and I certainly had no interest in ever running a farm. Joan left it to Ruth because she'd always wanted her to come and live down here. She worried about her, didn't like the idea of her working with all those criminally insane inmates at Broadmoor. But Ruth loves it you see, in fact the more evil they are, the better she likes it, gives her something to get her professional teeth into. I really think she would miss it terribly if she moved down here. I don't think the Bodmin locals would provide enough of a challenge to her, as I think most of them are just plain mad rather than bad."

"Right, I see. She certainly is a character isn't she? She's direct like Joan was, and yet different in so many ways too. Joan would have thought our village school was perfect for James Henry, whereas Ruth is a proper old school snob, thinking that the only way to get a decent education is to pay for it. I have to say that I find her very irritating at times and yet also very interesting."

"I think she probably feels the same way about you."

"Why? What did she say?"

"I don't think she liked the fact that you beat her at Scrabble."

"No, I don't think she did, did she? Being a bit of a whiz at Scrabble is one of my hidden talents, I'll have you know. Holly and I used to play it endlessly when we were students. Anyway, I don't think Ruth was best pleased that you beat her at Chess either. If I'd have known you were such a master, I'd have roped you in to run our Chess club at school ages ago."

"No, you most certainly wouldn't."

I couldn't think of anything worse than being responsible for a class full of primary school children. That was something that I was more than happy to leave to Louisa.

"But you'll teach James Henry how to play chess won't you?"

I watched as Louisa started to play the '_This little piggie_…' game with James' toes. Clearly he loved it, as he crowed and giggled with delight, especially when she got to the final line '_and this little piggie went wee wee wee all the way home_' and tickled him all over.

"Yes, I'll teach him chess," I said.

Louisa was so natural and at ease playing these baby games with James Henry in a way that I could never be, and so I found myself looking forward to the time when I would be able to play a game with him that I did feel comfortable about.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 8**

By the early evening of Christmas Day, Ruth had announced that she was ready to leave, so could Martin now take her back to Havenhurst please.

We'd had a few sandwiches with a fresh pot of tea for me, and coffee for Martin and Ruth - none of us had much of an appetite as we were still full from our lunch. The baby had had his afternoon nap downstairs with us in his Moses basket, before waking up and expecting to be entertained. Ruth had held him for a while, but when he'd burped and thrown up regurgitated milk over her, she had quickly handed him back to me

I still couldn't quite make up my mind how I felt about Martin's Aunt. She was certainly a lot like him – as well as being a doctor, she was also tactless and rude, but I supposed also well meaning. With Auntie Joan now sadly departed, it was nice that there was at least one of his relatives that seemed to be concerned about him, even if that concern was somewhat misplaced at times.

When Martin had got all choked up as we'd raised our glasses in Joan's memory at lunchtime, I'd glanced over at Ruth as I'd tried to reassure him that it wasn't a sign of weakness to shed a tear and grieve for a loved one. She had smiled and nodded her agreement, and we had seemed to be on the same wave length.

Of course Martin had said very little and had clammed up as usual, before finding an excuse to pick up and cuddle James Henry. It was obvious that he derived great comfort from close contact with his son, and so I didn't raise any objection to Martin giving him a bottle instead of me breast feeding him.

While he was upstairs with James, Ruth and I had cleared the dishes away from our Christmas lunch, and it had given us the chance to talk on our own for a few minutes.

"I really wish he would just open up and talk about his feelings, grieve properly for Joan rather than bottling it all up. Don't you think that would be healthier for him, rather than all this 'stiff upper lip' nonsense?" I'd asked Ruth.

"I'm afraid he just isn't the type that goes in for wailing and lamenting. He is grieving in his own way, and I think it is a very positive thing that he clearly finds interacting with his child comforting, even if he doesn't realise quite why. Of course James Henry is far too young to question his father's motives in picking him up, so he just smiles and happily accepts the attention, which in turn makes Martin feel good. It is actually a very positive and gratifying cycle for someone like Martin, who was never shown any affection by his parents, very therapeutic for him."

"So, what is all this about his parents? I don't know anything because he won't talk about them to me at all, but I gather they aren't close because he refused point blank to contact them to tell them they were grandparents, just as he refused to invite them when we were going to get married…" I'd stopped myself there, as I'd wished I hadn't brought up the subject of our cancelled wedding. I really didn't want to give Ruth the opportunity to bring up the subject of us 'giving it another go', as she had within the first few minutes of us meeting for the first time at Joan's funeral. I'd told her then that it was complicated, and if anything it was even more so now.

Ruth had looked at me for a few seconds.

"Have you ever met his parents? No? Well lucky you, I should just let sleeping dogs lie if I were you my dear. Suffice to say they are ghastly, and I would strongly advise you to respect Martin's wishes not to have anything to do with them."

"Are they really that bad then? I mean, I know he said he doesn't want to be anything like his father in bringing up James."

"Good, well I should certainly hope not, at least he's worked that out, which is a good sign. Anyway Louisa, while Martin isn't around, I wanted to have a quick word with you," Ruth had said as she'd looked round furtively to make sure he hadn't returned yet.

"Oh? What about?" I'd asked curiously.

"I really think Martin should be allowed to have another shot at being a surgeon."

"I agree," I'd stated.

"So surely you can see your way to compromise about having to stay here in this tiny little village?"

"Yes, I want us to, but it's difficult as I'm having trouble just getting Martin to even talk about taking the Truro job. But I'm planning to give it another go after Christmas, to try to get him to seriously consider it."

"Oh, I see. I assumed…" Ruth had stared at me, clearly rather taken aback.

"What? You think that it's me holding him back, refusing to let him take the job?" I'd asked incredulously. "Good grief, you must think I'm a really selfish cow if that's how you see me."

"No, no, I just thought that as you're a local village girl, maybe you found the thought of moving away any where else a bit intimidating. You did coming running back here when you were pregnant, couldn't stick London could you?"

"I came back because there was a job here, and it's a good place to raise a child on your own, as I thought I was going to be. Everyone mucks in and helps out, it's a great community," I'd told her through gritted teeth at her patronising manner.

"Yes, but you're not on your own now are you?" she'd pointed out, speaking slowly as if I was a simpleton.

"And that is why I will be trying to get Martin to change his mind, because I certainly don't want him to feel trapped by me. Perhaps you can have a word with him too, try to persuade him to reconsider, hmm?" I'd suggested, feeling quite furious that Ruth seemed to see me as some silly little bimbo without a brain, clinging to Martin and holding him back from his career. I suppose she reminded me of Martin's ex fiance, that nasty bitch Edith Montgomery, because undoubtedly that was how she too had seen me - the village hussy who had seduced poor hapless Martin against his better judgement and got herself pregnant. What was it about these doctors that made them all think they were so superior to the rest of the human race?

"Oh don't you worry, I shall certainly be speaking to my nephew on the subject. He was a bloody fantastic surgeon once, and could be again, if he would only come to his senses."

At that moment we'd heard Martin coming down the stairs, so that had put a stop to our conversation. Just as well, because I thought that I'd done extremely well to have kept my temper in check. What was that expression? '_You can choose your friends but you can't choose your family'_.

Just as Martin had had to put up with my mother, I was having to tolerate his aunt.

**xXx**

I think maybe Ruth had been rather miffed with me ever since Martin had taken my advice in talking Mrs Tishell down rather than hers. I had just known instinctively what the poor deluded woman had wanted to hear from Martin, what it would take to get her to come down so that I could retrieve our baby from her clutches. Thank goodness that for once Martin had chosen not to follow the logical route of listening to an experienced professional psychologist, who also happened to be his aunt, but had followed my instructions instead, and that had made me love him just a bit more than I already did.

It really made my blood boil that Ruth seemed to completely ignore the fact that I was a highly experienced teacher, thinking that she could help to buy the best education for our son with her admittedly generous Christmas gift for James, and that Martin, rather than me, would naturally know which the best school was for our son. Of course she'd also made it very clear that she really didn't think that our relationship was going to last that long anyway.

So when Ruth had made her cutting remark to me about my needing to concentrate on the game of Scrabble rather than 'games' with Martin, boasting how she was a dab hand at it, I was determined to pull out all the stops to show her that actually, I did have quite a decent brain.

And so I'd played a cracking game to easily win, much to her – and Martin's – astonishment I believe. It had been extremely satisfying, I must say. A teacher had to have a good brain too, it wasn't just a necessary requirement for a doctor. However, having seen how Martin swiftly beat his aunt at Chess in just a few merciless moves, I probably wouldn't be suggesting we try that game any time soon.

But despite all these little traumas, overall it had turned out to be a wonderful Christmas Day. Cranky, awkward relatives were after all a traditional part of the festivities, and compared to last year, when I'd been sad, lonely and pregnant all on my own in London, this year had been heaven.

I'd taken lots of photos to show James Henry all about his first Christmas when he was older. My favourites were the ones that I'd taken of him under the Christmas tree with all the presents, because he was by far the best present that either of us could ever have wished for.

Martin had exceeded all expectations with the presents he had bought for us. I knew he'd been worried about what he'd chosen, but I'd reassured him that it didn't matter, anything at all chosen by him would be nice. So to see the beautiful traditional teddy bear that he had got for James Henry was very touching, even if it had obviously come ready gift wrapped from Hamley's – _the_ number one toy shop in London. No doubt it had been horrendously expensive.

And then my present – I couldn't believe my eyes when I'd opened it. Naturally, I hadn't been able to help myself, I'd had a sneaky look and feel once he'd put my present under the tree. It had felt like a book, so that was what I had been expecting. But an iPad! I loved the fact that he'd clearly spent some time researching what would be most suitable and useful for me, that showed a lot of thought, and I was touched. Now I felt guilty for only giving him a tie, even if it had been a very expensive tie. Martin didn't do 'cheap' anything it seemed, he always bought the best of everything, from his flashy car, right down to his underwear, it always had to be the very best.

Things were shaping up nicely for Martin and I to have the rest of Christmas evening to ourselves, I schemed as I got James Henry bathed and hopefully ready to settle down by the time that Martin got back from dropping Ruth. I was planning for us to have our own very private Christmas celebrations, and the fact that Ruth had overheard our little discussion about our plans was certainly not going to deter me.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 9**

I looked in the mirror to check that I'd achieved the look I was going for – irresistible temptress, tonight masquerading as Mrs Santa Claus, as requested somewhat bashfully by Martin. I carefully adjusted my bosoms to maximise my cleavage in the scanty little top of the scarlet ensemble, thinking that this was one benefit of having a baby. I now had a much more generous bust than before, and I was determined to make the most of it while it lasted.

I ruffled up my hair so that it tumbled down over my shoulders in the 'just got out of bed' style, hoping that Martin wouldn't think it just looked messy rather than sexy as it was meant to.

I sucked in my tummy, and stood up straight to help flatten the flabby bits out, knowing how Martin had made comments about me still having a few pounds of baby weight to lose. I had been exercising, and having endured a particularly long and embarrassing lecture from Martin about the perils of stress incontinence, I had worked particularly hard on doing my pelvic floor exercises.

I turned to look over my shoulder to check the back view. At least the flared skirt of the dress was reasonably flattering over my bum, but there was no getting away from the fact that I was generously covered in that area.

Still, the piece de résistance of my outfit tonight would hopefully detract Martin's attention away from that. I smiled to myself as I wondered what Martin's reaction would be to the black stockings and stiletto shoes that I had added to my outfit. I just hoped that it wasn't a step too far, but as he seemed to be finally learning to 'go with the flow', I was hopeful that this little extra present would go down very well with him, and we'd have even more fun than last time in his surgery. I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation at the thought of what I had planned for us.

After one final check in the mirror, I decided that that was about as good as it was going to get, so it was time to go and find Martin. He'd mumbled something about locking up as he'd disappeared downstairs in his dressing gown, after taking a quick shower on his return from dropping Ruth back, leaving me to get ready after the baby had settled.

I quickly checked in on James before I went down, making sure that he had his cuddly blanket easily within reach in case he stirred – with that and his thumb, he usually settled himself back to sleep these days unless it was time for a feed. That blanket was an absolute godsend, and I'd already ordered another one so that we had a spare in case it got lost or for when it needed washing.

As I headed downstairs, I called out to find where Martin was.

"Martin? Where are you…?"

He instantly appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Clearly he had been waiting for me and had not been tempted to catch up on his medical research and reading as I had half suspected he might, even on Christmas day.

As he looked up the stairs at me, his jaw dropped as he saw what I had added to my outfit.

I carefully made my way down, not wanting to lose my footing in the high heels and make a complete prat of myself by falling down the stairs.

"So, how do you like your Christmas present?" I whispered in his ear as I stood on the second stair, making me the same height as him. I put my arms around his neck and kissed him, noticing how nice he smelt, so fresh and clean. I felt his big hands around my waist, and then they slipped downwards to my legs as he felt the silky stockings.

"I think I like it very much, very much indeed," he said breathlessly, before he kissed me back, letting his hands wander.

"And you don't hate Christmas any more do you?"

"God no! Best bloody time of the year," he murmured as he nuzzled my ears and my neck so nicely that I felt my head begin to swim with pleasure. At the same time, his fingers were lightly caressing my thighs, teasing me as he slowly worked his way higher and higher, and I found myself gasping as I clutched at his hair, throwing my head back so that he could continue to kiss and nip at my neck.

"Martin, that feels so nice," I whispered, and then nearly screamed as his fingers finally reached their destination for him to skilfully work me into a frenzy. At this rate it was all going to happen right here on the stairs.

"No, stop…not here, I want it to be on your desk," I managed to utter before I totally lost control. I wanted us to head to his surgery now, as I'd planned.

With that, Martin scooped me up in his arms, but headed off in the opposite direction, towards the living room.

"I have other plans for us," he told me firmly, as he carried me in and then gently placed me down onto a fluffy rug that he had placed in front of the fire, which was giving out a lovely flickering light. The only other light in the room was from the Christmas tree lights.

"Martin, this is really lovely and romantic," I said, surprised but delighted by this turn of events. What made it even more magical was the fact that outside a proper winter storm was beginning to unleash its power, with rain lashing against the windows, and strong winds howling and moaning their way around the trees and roof tops outside. I could even hear the waves crashing relentlessly against the cliffs below – it was all very evocative and sensual, adding to the atmosphere.

He lay down beside me and then kissed me very passionately and urgently as his hands worked their magic on me again, and as I tore his dressing gown open I tried to pull him on top of me as I was desperate by now for us to progress things.

"No," he ordered me. "I want you on top – to start with any way."

With that he magically produced a condom from somewhere, deftly applied it, then lifted me into position so that I could sit astride him.

"You'll do _exactly_ as I tell you Louisa. _I'm_ in control, and you'll do what you're told, do you understand?"

"Yes Martin. Whatever you say. I'm yours to command," I growled, finding myself intensely aroused by his words. I didn't know what on earth had brought this on, or where this new commanding Martin had come from, but my God I was finding him so incredibly sexy!

**xXx**

I think that I had just proved that Louisa did _not_ have me wrapped round her little finger as Aunt Ruth had claimed.

I knew that Louisa had planned for us to make love on the desk in my surgery, but tempting though that was, I really thought it best to keep my professional life completely separate from my private one. It was my responsibility to my patients to have a clear head when they consulted me, and not have images of what had happened right here in my consulting room keep popping into my head. It was hard enough to stop myself from constantly thinking about Louisa as it was, without that added distraction.

So I decided that it was about time that I acted like a proper man and took charge. Up to now I had tentatively taken my lead from Louisa as I had not wanted to be presumptuous about her willingness to make love after child birth. But she had made it crystal clear that she was more than ready and willing for a very active love life between us. And as I'd always thought that making love in front of an open fire would be a very pleasurable experience, I decided that was how I would like us to culminate our first Christmas day together.

Of course, when she'd come down the stairs looking even sexier than before because she had added black stockings and suspenders to her outfit, we'd nearly got carried away right there on the stairs. But I wanted things to last rather than be over too quickly, because for a while now, I had had some ideas of my own that I really wanted us to try out but had felt unsure about suggesting. Tonight I'd thrown caution to the wind and decided to just go for it, take charge, be more adventurous. And the gamble had paid off. Louisa had been very responsive to my suggestions, and I think it was a fair assessment to say that it had proved to be a mutually satisfying experience for us both.

As we lay together afterwards, Louisa sighed contentedly.

"Oh Martin, when did you get to be so masterful? It was so…_sexy_ of you," she said, as she now curled herself up against me as we lay on the rug in front of the dying embers of the fire. She'd found a blanket to throw over us, one that she kept by the sofa for her to use when she sat and watched TV. She complained that she felt cold sometimes and wanted to turn the heating up, but I couldn't bear it too hot and stuffy, it was very unhealthy and provided a perfect temperature for breeding germs.

"I'm used to being in charge for most things, in case you hadn't noticed," I stated.

"Yes, but you've always been rather shy with me as far as bedroom activities go," she pointed out.

"I was merely being patient, ensuring that I was not acting without your consent in the early stages of our relationship. However, I felt able to step things up as you have indicated your willingness for things to progress in that manner between us," I tried to explain.

"You mean you've discovered that I'm a right little goer, is that what you're saying Martin?"

I hoped that was a teasing tone I heard in her voice, and so I held her away from me slightly so that I could look at her face to gauge her mood. She was smiling at me, so I assessed that she was indeed teasing me. I decided that as things had been so good between us on this our first Christmas, maybe now was the time to seize the moment and bring up the subject that was always there at the back of my mind.

"Thank you for making this such a wonderful Christmas, and for all my presents," I started off.

"You're very welcome. Thank you too. I _loved_ my present."

She gave me a kiss on the lips to emphasise her point.

"Good, I was worried it wasn't romantic enough. The general consensus seems to be that women like supposedly romantic items such as flowers and chocolates."

"Oh any fool can buy things like that. Your present was romantic because you put a lot of thought into it, and that means such a lot to me."

Another kiss was placed on my lips.

"Louisa, there's something I want to ask that would mean lot to me…" my heart rate increased with nerves because of the enormity of what I wanted to ask.

"What?"

"You know that it would be the best possible present for me if you would agree…."

"Martin, if you're going to bring up the subject of what you suggested with the Christening again…"

By the way that Louisa had immediately tensed up in my arms, I knew that I wasn't going to get the response that I was hoping for, and my heart sank.

"Why are you so against the idea of us getting married?" I demanded to know. I'd hoped that maybe by now she would have come round to the idea again. I'd suggested that we make James Henry's Christening a joint occasion with us getting married at the same time, but Louisa had rejected the idea out of hand, saying she didn't want to rush into things, and that there was no hurry.

"Don't spoil things Martin. Everything is really nice just how it is. We don't need a piece of paper, it wouldn't change anything between us," Louisa tried to convince me.

"I don't agree. I want things to be sorted between us, officially and legally. I want to show that we are committed. I want James Henry to have married parents, to be brought up in a proper stable home," I argued with some feeling.

"That's very old fashioned. You are named as his father on his birth certificate for all the world to see, and you got your way with his surname, he is James Henry Ellingham after all, so why do we need to be married, what difference would it make?" Louisa argued back.

"Because I want you to be Louisa _Ellingham_, for us all to have the same name, to be a proper family," I pleaded.

"Why does everything have to be so black and white with you? We don't need to be married to be a proper family."

"Well I think we do. Legally, it's far better for us to be married. As things stand, I don't have equal rights with regard to our son. And you don't have equal financial rights to things like my pension."

"Oh Martin, surely you know that I would never deny you equal rights for anything to do with James? And I'm not worried about things like your pension for goodness sake!"

"Well you should be, you can't just ignore these things you know."

"Martin I'm sorry, but I just can't face going through all that wedding stuff again, not after last time. It was when we decided to get married that everything changed, it all went horribly wrong."

"It's different now. We don't have to get married in church this time if you don't want to, we could have the quietest, smallest wedding possible, that would suit me just fine."

"It's not just that Martin."

I knew I was fighting a losing battle, but I took one last shot at trying to persuade her.

"Then what? I've changed, you know I have. I am at least able to tell you that I love you now. And I do Louisa, I love you very much, and I always will. So please marry me."

"Oh Martin, I love you too, of course I do, but…"

"But not enough to marry me. It's OK, I get it now, I understand Louisa," I stated.

I threw the blanket off, gathered up my dressing gown and made my way upstairs, where I headed straight for the shower. I locked myself in, turned on the water and let it drown the tears of disappointment that were coursing down my face at yet another rejection.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 10**

Once I'd gathered myself together, I rushed after Martin to try and explain things to him, but by the time I got upstairs, he'd already shut himself in the bathroom and I could hear the shower running. Either he didn't hear me knocking on the door, or he ignored me. Damn it, as usual he was clamming up and not talking to me.

And then of course James started crying, and almost instantly my milk started flowing and my stupid tarty outfit now had two big damp patches on the front. I quickly tore it off, threw on my nursing bra, my easy access comfy pyjamas and my fluffy slippers, then went into him as I scraped my hair back out of the way into a loose pony tail. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I went by – what I saw now was Frumpy Mummy Louisa rather than Sexy Temptress Louisa.

James felt hot as I picked him up, and his cheeks were quite red. I put my finger in his mouth as he cried, and felt a tender little bump in his gum at the front – his second tooth was clearly about to make an appearance.

I sat with him in the rocking chair next to his cot and tried to feed him, but he wasn't really interested, so I just cuddled him, listening to the storm raging outside, thinking of the stormy exchange that had just occurred between his father and me.

I'd hated seeing the hurt in Martin's eyes that I'd caused, but why did he need us to get married right away? We'd only been living together for a short time, and there were so many things that we hadn't even begun to sort out yet, things that we hadn't discussed properly – such as his job.

And clearly he didn't understand that just recalling even briefly our abortive attempt at getting married last time around made me feel nauseous and panicky at the very idea of putting us thorough that hell again.

But of course for Martin there was no middle ground. He was so old fashioned and traditional in his outlook, that we had to be married for him to feel that his son was being properly brought up. I thought that this was a bit rich really, considering the fact that he had been quite prepared to leave me to it on my own, right up till James Henry had actually been born. Up to that point, he'd never once asked me to let him be involved with his child or in any way suggested that we try to work things out between us.

"It's different now," he'd said as he'd looked at his son, clearly totally besotted.

But if a quirk of fate hadn't stopped him, he'd have continued on his way, driving out of my life, happily settling back in London, while I'd have given birth on my own in Cornwall, if James had hung on until his due date instead of arriving two weeks early

So although I knew that all that was in the past now, and that Martin was sincere in his wishes for us to be together, I felt that rushing into things again without talking everything through properly was quite simply a very bad idea.

James continued to cry even though he had his cuddly blanket, and just as I decided that he wasn't going to settle without some Calpol to ease his pain, I looked up to see Martin coming into the room, now wearing his buttoned up pyjamas. He refused to look me in the eye as he carefully felt James' forehead and cheek with the back of his hand.

"He seems hot. I'd better check his temperature. Probably teething," he stated, as he too felt inside our baby's mouth. James was pretty tetchy by now, and cried even louder as Martin prodded his gums.

"I was about to give him some Calpol, his gum seems really tender," I replied, as I tried to comfort him.

"Hmm. I'll get him some, he can have it once I've taken his temperature."

With that Martin disappeared for a moment, before quickly reappearing with his medical bag, a bottle of Calpol medicine and a tube of Bonjela teething gel.

He stuck his special instrument thingy in James' ear to take his temperature, and after a short while he grunted.

"Slightly elevated, but he's not feverish."

Then he took James from me, laid him down on the changing unit and quickly but thoroughly checked him over, ignoring his howls of protest. Satisfied that there was nothing more serious wrong, he handed him back, speaking to me as if he was dealing with one of his patients.

"Hold him while I give him the medicine please. Then I'll rub some gel on his gum. Hopefully these measures will ease his discomfort."

Once we'd successfully carried this out, I cuddled James Henry, rocking him and crooning quietly in his ear as I stroked his head, and gradually his crying subsided as the pain relief began to kick in.

I saw Martin staring at us both and tried to read his expression, but when he saw me looking he turned away. He went and stood by the window with his back to us, hands behind his back as he looked out at the storm through the curtains.

"Martin, we really need to talk," I said quietly.

"What is there to say? You've made your feelings quite plain."

"Don't be like that. It's complicated, you know it is."

"I don't think it is. I think it's pretty simple actually. Either you want to marry me, or you don't. And clearly you don't."

"I didn't say that. I just think we need to sort out some important issues before we even can think about anything else."

"Issues? What issues?"

"Such as your job, you being a surgeon again, where we should live, all those issues."

"There are no issues. My job is sorted, I am resuming as the GP here in Portwenn. We can move back into your cottage in the New Year when your tenant vacates. You've said that you are happy to live in that cottage. So there really are no issues that need to be resolved as far as I can see."

"But what about _you_ Martin? What about what _you_ want?" I started to argue, but I was interrupted by the sound of Martin's mobile phone ringing somewhere in the distance.

"Oh for pity's sake! Who the hell is calling me now? I'm not on duty," he exploded, as he strode off to get his phone from the other room.

"Ellingham," I heard him bark. I listened as he was extremely rude and abrupt with whoever it was on the other end of the phone.

"What do you mean? Why can't they get through? It's just a bit of rain for crying out loud, what is this country coming to if they can't manage to send an ambulance out if it's a little bit windy," he bellowed into his handset.

I raised my eyebrows as I listened to the rain beating incessantly against the window, and the sound of a dustbin lid being blown along by the gale force winds outside, as Martin continued to rant.

"So you're expecting me to turn out are you? Well he'd better bloody well be at death's door when I get there."

I gathered that Martin had terminated the call, as I heard his wardrobe door open and then slam shut.

I carried the now very sleepy baby with me as I tentatively went into our room. Martin looked up at me.

"Some stupid arse has decreed that they can't send out an ambulance to a case here in the village due to adverse weather conditions, something about trees blocking the road. Oh but it's OK for me to have to go out to some malingering time waster who has probably over done the sherry and mince pies and now has indigestion."

Despite his bad tempered blustering, I knew that Martin would never refuse to attend a patient.

"Right, I see. Where have you got to go?"

"The Slipway Hotel. Some guest staying for the Christmas break has been taken ill."

"At least you haven't got far to go."

Martin just grunted at me, as he quickly finished dressing and headed downstairs towards his surgery, where I could hear drawers being opened and shut as he gathered together everything he might need.

I followed him down with James still draped over my shoulder, and went into the scullery to retrieve the old Barbour waxed jacket I'd seen hanging up in there.

"Here, put this on over your suit or you'll be soaked by the time you get even the short distance down to the hotel," I insisted as I held it out to him with my one free arm.

He looked at me for a minute before allowing me to help him shrug it on. As he made to leave, I grabbed his arm, and pulled him down to me so that I could gently kiss his cheek.

"We _will_ be talking later, Martin Ellingham, because we're not done yet, right?"

He hesitated for just a couple of seconds, before saying,

"Look, don't wait up for me, I've no idea how long I'm going to be. Just get James settled, he should be fine now."

Then he opened the kitchen door, and it was almost torn from his grasp by the strength of the gust of wind outside, then it slammed shut and he was gone.

_**Calpol** is a Paracetamol liquid medicine that can be used in infants from 2 months old for pain relief _


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 11**

Of course I should have stayed and talked with Louisa rather than running away and locking myself in the bathroom, but I had to get away or she would have seen me crying, blubbing like a little baby because she'd turned me down. It had been a curse all my life, this stupid propensity of mine for bursting into tears, and was completely ridiculous for a full grown, six foot three inch man like me.

As a boy at school, it hadn't taken the bullies long to discover how easily they could make me cry, so they'd endlessly taunted me and called me 'cry baby' 'wimp', or 'sissy'. This, combined with the fact that I was also a bed wetter, had made me a perfect target for them.

My father had called me the same names too, as he was clearly ashamed to have such a pathetic excuse for a son.

"Pull yourself together Martin. Only silly little girls cry – is that what you are, hmm? You need toughening up, none of this namby pamby coddling for you," he'd insisted, moving me to a new boarding school that had military style discipline, which included a caning each time I wet the bed. I was caned a lot.

Ironically, the school seemed to think that I was a 'Mummy's Boy'. Maybe I would have liked to have been, but I never had the opportunity. My mother had as little to do with me as she possibly could, because I think she liked to pretend that I didn't exist.

In time, over the years, I developed a coping mechanism at school by immersing myself in my studies, because I had at least been gifted with a decent brain. It didn't make me popular with the other boys, but I simply kept myself to myself. I didn't bother to try to make any friends, and I found it was far easier to cope that way.

These were skills that stood me in good stead as a doctor and especially a surgeon. You have to be able to detach yourself, keep your distance, not become too emotionally involved with your patients, which I was perfectly able to do. And so eventually I'd ended up as one of the top surgeons in the country - until it had all come crashing down around me when I'd developed my haemophobia.

But how could I really regret that happening, because if it hadn't, I would not have ended up as the GP in Portwenn, and then I would never have met Louisa.

Louisa, the love of my life. The most beautiful, infuriating, wonderful, difficult, sexy, confusing woman I have ever met, and now the mother of my beloved son.

We've had some highs but also some terrible lows in our relationship over the years. But I thought we'd finally got things right between us this time. She had made our first Christmas day together with James pretty much perfect, and I loved her for all the effort she had put in to make us both happy.

We'd made such wonderful passionate love earlier tonight, and it had seemed the perfect way to end to our first Christmas day together. We'd felt confident enough with each other to play around and try out some new experiences, and I didn't think it was possible for a man and a woman to be any closer.

So if tonight wasn't the right time to ask her to marry me, I couldn't think when was.

But clearly I had got everything wrong yet again. Stupid, stupid me. I had misread her feelings. She was fond of me. I was James Henry's father. We had great sex together. But she didn't want to marry me.

**xXx**

After I'd spent a while under the shower, I managed to pull myself together, and of course I couldn't stay there all night. As I came out of the bathroom, I could hear James Henry crying even though he was not due his next feed, so I put on my pyjamas and made my way to the nursery to investigate.

Louisa was cuddling him as she sat in the rocking chair, dressed now in her loose pyjamas that had little red stars all over them. It was very apparent that the baby was not his usual self, and after assessing his condition, I came to the same conclusion as Louisa – he was teething.

Once we'd dosed him up with suitable medication, I watched as Louisa soothed and comforted our son. He was a very lucky little boy to have such a caring mother, and I felt my heart swell with love for both of them. All I wanted was to be allowed to protect and look after my family to the very best of my ability, to provide security and stability for them both. To me this meant that Louisa and I should be husband and wife, married, not just living together in an informal arrangement. I could feel tears of frustration begin to well up again, so as Louisa looked up at me, I hastily turned away and looked out of the window instead.

It was a real humdinger of a storm outside, one of North Cornwall's famous Atlantic winter gales. Sometimes they went on for days, and no doubt when it finally subsided, there would be more than a few of the fishing boats damaged even in the comparative safety of the harbour, as well as roof tiles missing and lopsided TV aerials. I would have to check the forecast to see what they were predicting for the duration of this one.

I was disturbed from my thoughts by the sound of Louisa's voice quietly insisting that we needed to talk. Talk? What about? She didn't want to marry me, what else was there to say? She was finding excuses now, going on about 'issues' - my job, me being a surgeon, where to live. But there were no issues. I'd sorted them all out, sorted everything to ensure that she would be happy and content.

Then my stupid phone rang. Bloody 'Health and Safety' rules meant that some jobsworth was too scared to despatch an ambulance to an emergency here in the village because of the storm. Instead they were expecting me to attend as I was the nearest available doctor, whether I was on call or not, and regardless of the fact that it was Christmas. And of course I would go, I had no option but to attend, as would be the case for any doctor. That didn't mean to say that I had to be good humoured about it, and I muttered more than a few choice swear words under my breath as I quickly got dressed and then gathered together everything that I might possibly need downstairs in my surgery.

Louisa followed me down, still carrying James where he was drowsily settling on her shoulder as the pain relief began to work. She produced a jacket for me to wear that I'd forgotten I even had, a welcome and practical thought from her given the conditions outside. She helped me on with it, then pecked my cheek as she insisted that we still had more talking to do.

She looked so sweet and vulnerable standing there in her baggy pyjamas and ridiculous fluffy slippers, very different to her outfit earlier this evening, and yet just as attractive to me. My heart literally ached because I wanted this woman as a permanent part of my life so very much, but I could feel her slipping away from me because I had clearly stuffed things up between us yet again.

"Look, don't wait up for me, I've no idea how long I'm going to be. Just get James settled, he should be fine now," I told her, as I made my out into the stormy night, turning right down the hill towards the Slipway Hotel at the bottom.

I marvelled at the sheer power of Mother Nature as I battled to stay upright on my feet, somehow enjoying the wind and rain beating against me as the elements matched perfectly the storminess of my emotions.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 12**

I'd grumbled that the patient I'd been called out to see had better be at death's door. As it turned out, he'd already passed right through to the other side, and there was nothing that I could do for him. There would have to be a post mortem examination, but it looked as if he'd suffered a massive coronary thrombosis, and he would have died pretty much instantly. So no happy ending to his Christmas day, or for the distraught woman who had apparently been his girlfriend. She informed me that he'd brought her down to Cornwall for a romantic break, some special deal he'd booked for them at the hotel, and he'd used the occasion to propose, much to her delight.

Unusually, he didn't appear to have been the average candidate for a heart attack. He was relatively young – about my own age – not overweight or a smoker, and seemed quite fit from what I could assess. It just proved that there is always the exception to the general rule, and no one could afford to be complacent. I made a mental note to run some checks for both myself and Louisa in the very near future to update our cardiovascular disease assessments.

I didn't consider it my responsibility to console grieving relatives, so I was thankful that the hotel staff took it upon themselves to provide assistance to the woman, who was making quite a fuss with all her wailing and crying. I suspected that they wanted to try and quieten her down so that she didn't disturb the other hotel guests, as that was obviously not very good for business. I was then able to get on with the necessary admin and paperwork, which of course took ages.

Finally I was able to leave and make my way back up the hill to my home, through the still raging wind and heavy rain. It was now the early hours of the morning as I let myself into through the back door, to find everything quiet and still.

First off I hung up my old barbour jacket in the scullery to dry, and then I quickly towel dried my hair. Before going upstairs, I stopped in the lounge to check that the Christmas tree lights had been switched off, and that the fire was now completely out. I stood and looked as I recalled the intense passion that Louisa and I had experienced just a short while ago on the rug that was still there in front of the fire. So where did things stand between us now? I really had no idea.

I made my way upstairs very quietly, and went first to the nursery to check on James Henry. He was fast asleep, wearing a fleecy all in one suit that had little reindeer and Santa figures all over it. What Louisa intended to do with these Christmas themed outfits once the festive season had passed I couldn't imagine, but I had to admit that he did look particularly cosy in this one. I gently tucked him in without disturbing him, as I felt his cheek and forehead – he didn't seem as hot as he had done earlier thankfully.

Then I went into our bedroom. Louisa had left a night light on, so I didn't need to put the main light on to make my way over to the en suite bathroom. I could see her sleeping, curled up on her right hand side as usual, her dark glossy hair spread over the pillow. I couldn't help but stop and stare at her for a short while, still not quite able to believe that this beautiful woman was really here, in my bed, and that it wasn't a dream, before gathering myself to head for the bathroom and quickly complete my ablutions.

Then, as I carefully pulled back the duvet to get into bed, I saw what appeared to be a letter of some sort on my pillow. On closer inspection, I saw that it was addressed to me, in Louisa's distinctive handwriting. Immediately, the last letter she had written to me sprang to mind, the one she'd handed to me when she'd come round to call off our wedding. I hardly dared to read this one in case it was the same, telling me that we were through, that it was over between us, and I slumped down on the edge of the bed, just looking at it in my hand. But there was no point in putting it off, I knew I had to read it, so I took a deep breath and then unfolded it.

_My darling Martin,_

_I've been trying to stay awake until you got back, but I can't keep my eyes open much longer, so I'm going to write down what I need to say to you._

_I love you very, very much, and have done for the longest time. You said that I don't love you enough to want to marry you, but that's not true at all. It's because of how much I love you that I want to be sure that we get things right this time. The first time you proposed, do you remember how I jumped into your arms and joyfully accepted without a second thought – and look where that got us. I don't want to risk spoiling everything again – although from your reaction tonight, perhaps I already have. I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you like that, especially not today, and not when we'd just had such a wonderful time together- you are such a dark horse at times with your amazing skills._

_I really want us to be together, to be lovers, for the rest of our lives So I want you to think about things this way Martin. Marriage is a huge commitment, a major undertaking. Now imagine if you were going to perform major surgery on a patient – you'd spend quite a bit of time researching and planning the procedure wouldn't you? You wouldn't just rush in and operate without thinking it through, you would want to be as prepared as you possibly could for every eventuality that might crop up. That doesn't mean that you would refuse to operate once you felt that you were properly prepared and ready._

_So shouldn't you think the same way about getting married? Logically, shouldn't we consider all the things that will make us happy together, but also prepare for anything that could potentially cause problems between us? Now that we have our child, we simply can't afford to take risks with his happiness._

_So I want you to sit down with me and TALK! Talk to me about what would make **you** happy and fulfilled. I'm worried that you have sublimated your feelings about returning to surgery and decided to stay on as a GP because you believe that will make me happy. But think ahead to how you will feel in a year's time, five years, ten years time. That's what worries me about suppressing your true feelings, they will inevitably resurface at some point._

_I love you so much Martin and I really desperately want everything to work out between us this time. So let's sit down in the morning and talk properly about everything, like the adults that we're meant to be. Please?_

_L xxx_

I read it through several times, trying to work out what Louisa was really saying. She said she loved me. She wasn't talking about moving out, or leaving me, so I was immensely relieved. She wanted us to talk more about everything, which I still didn't see the point of. But by now I was desperately tired, so I decided that I would just have to see how things were in the morning, as I gratefully slipped into bed next to Louisa.

Louisa stirred and turned towards me.

"My Martin," she murmured sleepily, as she cuddled up to me. She was all warm and soft, and smelt of her nice shower gel, and she was totally irresistible. Of course I couldn't be upset with her any more, so instead I pulled her even closer to me.

I was indeed 'her Martin', and I always would be, whether we got married or not. Her letter said that she loved me, and she even talked about wanting us to be together for 'the rest of our lives'. Maybe I just had to calm down, be patient, try not to force things between us, but be thankful and accept things as they were for now.

After all, this was a whole lot more than that poor sod that I had just declared dead down at the hotel had.

I just had to hope that in time, Louisa would come round to my way of thinking on the subject of marriage.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 13**

I wasn't sure what time Martin had got back last night, I just vaguely remember being very relieved when he'd finally joined me in bed. I'd worried that he'd do something silly, like sleep downstairs on the sofa, or even not come back home at all. Once I'd settled James, I'd taken a shower, and then tried to stay awake until he got back so that I could talk to him, but as time went on I'd found myself nodding off, and realised that we would probably only end up having one of our stupid rows as we'd both be tired and ratty.

But I still needed to somehow reassure him that all was not lost between us, if he would only back off from his blinkered view that we had to get married in order for us to be a 'proper' family, and that if I didn't immediately agree it meant that I didn't love him. All or nothing, that was Martin, with nothing in between.

I felt very guilty about hurting him when I'd abruptly cut short his marriage proposal, but I'd been trying to warn him off from even bringing the subject up as I knew it would spoil our special evening together. Martin had really surprised me tonight by the way he'd taken control and played some wonderful sexy games with me. He really was a very talented lover, and I didn't dare let myself dwell too much on just where or with whom he had acquired these impressive skills. He'd really got into the spirit of things, and I'd been thrilled that he felt confident with me in that way. Maybe that's what had made him feel he could bring up the subject of marriage that we had both been tiptoeing around for a while now.

As he had been the one to storm off this time, not me, I'd not had the opportunity to try to put things right before, as usual, his wretched phone rang and he got called away. I knew it was an occupational hazard for a doctor, but I sometimes wondered if there was some evil pixie intent on interrupting us at inopportune moments. Clearly Martin had been none too thrilled to be called out on a stormy night such as this – stormy in more ways than one - but ever the responsible doctor, he had of course hurried out to his patient. However, I pitied them if it had turned out to be some kind of false alarm, knowing that they would be on the receiving end of one of Martin's infamous bad tempered tirades.

So I'd been left on my own, cuddling James while we'd waited for the Calpol to ease his teething pains. When he'd settled, I'd tucked him up in his cot, and a serious frown had passed over his little face for a few seconds, making him the spitting image of his father. It made me sad that Martin frowned such a lot and so rarely smiled, and I resolved to try my hardest to change that.

So I'd sat down and written a note to Martin, which I'd put right slap bang in the middle his pillow to make sure that he couldn't miss it. I was determined that we were going to thrash things out between us tomorrow come hell or high water, just as long as Martin had the sense to come home to me.

I'd been so relieved when he'd finally come to our bed, that although I'd been asleep, I'd instinctively woken up enough to put my arms around him. Thankfully he didn't push me away, but instead had hugged me back before we both fell into an exhausted sleep.

**xXx**

Although it was about two hours later, it seemed only a few minutes had passed by when I heard the baby cry. I quickly got up and went to him before he woke Martin - poor man had had even less sleep than me, so it seemed only fair that I went, and I closed the bedroom door on my way so that he wouldn't be disturbed.

Of course it was most likely that James would want a feed to settle him back down, which I could easily provide without having to bother about getting a bottle – one of the benefits of breastfeeding.

Poor little James was still teething and miserable, so I realised that he would need another dose of pain relief before he would settle again. I gave him some from the bottle that Martin had left in his room, then changed his nappy to make sure he was warm and dry. I could still hear the wind and rain outside rattling the window frame, and it felt very cosy as we settled down together in the rocking chair with a blanket wrapped round us, as James began to feed.

"So, James Henry, what are we going to do about your Daddy hmm?"

I often found myself talking things through with my baby son. It felt comforting somehow, even if he couldn't give me answers. In any case, he always seemed to like the sound of my voice, and tonight he stared intently back at me as he fed, gripping my fingers with his little ones.

"He thinks I don't love him enough, the silly man. Doesn't he realise that I've been crazy about him for years? I've made a right idiot of myself chasing after him, even when he was really rude and horrid to me."

James seemed to look at me in disbelief.

"Oh I know, you can't believe he can be horrid because he's such a nice Daddy to you. That's because he's besotted with you young man. Thinks you are the best baby in the whole wide world, which of course you are."

This earned me a smile from James as he took a break from feeding, and I took the opportunity to try and wind him on my shoulder.

"Am I so wrong in not wanting to rush into getting married? We really can't afford to mess things up now, not when we've got you to consider, we've got to get it right, haven't we?"

James gave me a loud burp to show his agreement.

"And I really want your Daddy to be happy and whatever he says, I think secretly he does want to be a surgeon again very much indeed. So we've got to find a way to let him, haven't we? He is a very clever man, but sometimes he can be really stupid and stubborn."

James sighed and yawned as I settled him to feed again. At least we'd sorted out latching onto the left side by now. It had taken a bit of time and patience to get used to breast feeding, but I was so glad I'd persisted and not given up.

"If your teeth are coming through, I shall have to think about weaning you soon. At least then your Daddy will get to give you a bottle more often. He's turning into a brilliant Daddy isn't he? But do you know James, I used to think he wouldn't want to be involved with you, how silly was I eh? But don't you dare tell him I said so."

James' tummy was full now, the pain relief was beginning to kick in, and as his eyes began to droop, it was clear that he was ready to go back to bed. I cuddled him for a while longer, before gently kissing him and putting him down in his cot, tucking his blanket securely round him.

Hopefully he would sleep in a bit now for Boxing Day morning. It was nearly five o'clock in the morning as I snuck back into bed. Martin was still dead to the world. Clearly he was exhausted and hadn't stirred at all while I'd been up with James Henry.

**xXx**

I was woken with a start by the landline phone ringing, then I heard Martin's deep booming voice talking downstairs, so obviously he'd answered it down there.

I looked over at the clock as I yawned and stretched in bed, and was shocked to see that it was nearly nine o'clock, and I hurriedly jumped out of bed to check on James.

"It's alright, James is down here with me," Martin called up as he heard me moving about.

I pulled on my slippers and dressing gown and made my way downstairs.

"Happy Boxing day," I said, as I walked into the kitchen to see Martin sitting in his pyjamas at the table, feeding James Henry his breakfast. He was sat in his chair, wearing a big bib and rather a lot of baby porridge round his mouth. When he saw me, he gave me a big beaming smile.

"Well, someone looks a lot happier this morning," I smiled back at my son.

"I think his tooth is actually through now, so I think he feels more comfortable," Martin explained, as he tried and failed to get his son to have a bit more porridge. "I think he's had as much as he's going to. Sit down, I'll get you some breakfast."

"Oh don't worry, I'll just grab some cereal. Who was on the phone just now?"

"Aunt Ruth, cancelling our lunch invitation with her. She said that Al told her the roads are blocked by fallen trees from the storm. Thinks we should stay at home while the weather is still bad."

I smiled to myself, thinking that Ruth was probably quite happy to cancel, as I got the distinct impression that catering and entertaining were not her forte. She would probably be much happier spending the day by herself, reading some gory report about one of her Broadmoor inmates.

"I see. Well never mind, we've got plenty of food to have for a nice lunch here anyway. You were late back last night, how was your patient?"

"Already kicked the bucket when I got there, dead as a Dodo, complete waste of my time. I just got lumbered with all the endless stupid paperwork," Martin replied, as he wiped James' face and hands with a wet cloth.

"Oh, how terrible, and at Christmas too. His family must have been terribly upset, so I'm sure that they were grateful for you turning up anyway."

Martin just grunted by way of a reply.

"So…umm…did you see the letter I left for you?" I knew that he had because I'd seen it on his bedside table.

"Yes," he replied, not looking at me.

"And…?"

"What?"

"Are you happy for us to sit down this morning and talk things through properly, especially now that we aren't going up to Havenhurst for lunch?"

I knew that he understood perfectly well what I was talking about and was just being evasive.

"Whatever you deem necessary Louisa, I shall comply with, although I'm still not sure just what you think there is that needs such in depth discussion," Martin replied, as he glanced my way.

"Martin! Just for once, can you be prepared to actually open up and talk about your…"

"Oh God, please don't say 'feelings'," Martin interrupted me, as he rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Martin, I do mean 'feelings', actually."

"Oh goody, I can't wait," he replied sarcastically. "Well while we're on the subject, my 'feelings' are that your baby has soiled his nappy, and I 'feel' that you need to change him, and I also 'feel' that I should go and have my shower and get dressed."

With that, Martin plonked a rather smelly James into my arms, and then disappeared off upstairs.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 14**

Facts and logic, that's what I've always been used to dealing with. It's no good going on about how you're feeling all the time, you just have to get on and deal with things in a sensible and logical manner.

So these were the facts as I saw them. I wished to make Louisa happy because of my love for her. For her to be happy, it was apparent to me that she needed to live, work and raise our son in Portwenn; ergo we had to live in the village. This was entirely feasible as I had a job that fitted in perfectly well with this situation, and we would shortly be able to move back into her cottage that she had always been so fond of.

Although I still found it hard to believe, Louisa had assured me that she reciprocated my love in her letter last night, in which she had clearly been trying to justify her actions in rejecting my proposal. It was at least reassuring that she'd stated that she wanted us to be together for the long term, contrary to my initial fears. Now I realised that perhaps I had overreacted, but at the time it had seemed logical to surmise that if she didn't want to marry me, she didn't want to be with me at all. I still found her very hard to make out at times.

Although naturally there was still progress to be made, I believed that we had made some headway in our relationship of late, and there was little doubt that we were extremely compatible physically. Therefore, the next logical step was surely for us to formalise our relationship by getting married, thereby providing a secure environment in which to raise our son. She talked about us needing to plan and prepare for marriage as I would for surgery, but marriage is on-going, you work things out as you go along surely?

I was more than willing to support my family so that Louisa could concentrate on raising our child, but as she insisted that she needed to work in order to be happy, I had little option but to accede to her wishes. I would therefore do my utmost to undertake my fair share of child care duties as best as I could. Frankly, I felt bloody lucky to be allowed to take such an active role in James' upbringing.

I knew that Louisa kept saying that I should reconsider my decision not to return to surgery, and I appreciated her concern, I really did. However, I had carefully weighed up all the options, and come to the only logical conclusion – being a surgeon just was not compatible with my wish to make Louisa and James Henry happy, and so I had to conclude that it would not make me happy either.

These were simple facts, not rocket science. Therefore I did not see why Louisa deemed it necessary for us to have an in-depth discussion about my 'feelings'. She seemed to have a propensity for reading 'self-help' books that were written by people such as that dreadful neighbour of hers whose name eludes me, the one who had tried to diagnose me with Aspergers – totally ridiculous, clearly the man hadn't got a clue what he was talking about .

However, as Louisa insisted that she would not contemplate marriage with me until we had sat down and talked together, I had to do as she bid, however much I loathed all this American style psychoanalytical self-flagellation.

**xXx**

So now Louisa and I were sitting down together at the kitchen table. As we'd walked into the kitchen, she'd stood in the way to block me, then reached up to kiss me as she held James on her hip.

"Just remember that I do really love you Martin, and that we _are_ going to find a way to sort everything out," she insisted. "We are not leaving this house again until we have found a way forward, right?"

I felt relieved that she wasn't threatening to leave me, so I decided that I had to hear her out, and appear to show at least some willingness for all this baring of souls. When all was said and done, I knew that I'd do pretty much anything to stay with Louisa.

We sat opposite each other, James Henry sitting on her lap, where he was happily playing for now with some toys and various other bits and bobs she'd put on the table for him. Now that he'd cut his troublesome tooth, chewing the toys obviously felt satisfying to him, so I just hoped they had all been hygienically wiped over.

Outside the weather had calmed down a bit, but it was still raining very heavily, putting pay to any thoughts of my escaping out for a walk.

"So Martin, tell me why you worked so hard to overcome your blood phobia if you don't really want to be a surgeon again."

No beating around the bush from Louisa then, straight to the point, an approach that I approved of.

"Before we were reconciled, it seemed the logical course of action for me to resume my surgical career. However, since my circumstances have now radically altered, it is no longer appropriate," I explained.

"But you would like to be a surgeon again, wouldn't you?" Louisa pushed me.

"That's irrelevant. It's not possible."

"But if it was?"

"It's not. Believe me Louisa, I have carefully considered all the facts."

"I think it could be Martin."

"Louisa, do you know how you get to be a top consultant in a highly specialised field such as Vascular Surgery? You live it, you breathe it, to the exclusion of everything else. When I was a surgeon before in London, I would be at work by seven in the morning, and I wouldn't get back to my flat until maybe ten at night. Then I would go straight to bed, by myself - I had to have an unbroken night's sleep in order for me to be at my best the next day, because undertaking such difficult and complicated procedures meant that I literally had the patient's life in my hands. I had no social life outside of work at all, but that didn't worry me. People have questioned me as to why I haven't had any other relationships over the years. The truth was that there was simply no room in my life for that kind of thing. So when I believed that you did not want me involved in your life, or the life of our child, it seemed an attractive option for me to concentrate on surgery again to the exclusion of everything else. But now that you have given me this chance to be with you and our son, I do not wish to live the life of a surgeon again. And frankly you coming to London with me would have been a grave mistake, I now realise. You would have been lonely and unhappy while I was away working very long hours at the hospital."

"Wow, Martin, I think that is the longest speech I've ever heard from you," Louisa exclaimed.

"I'm just proving to you that I have fully considered all the salient facts before reaching my decision. Yes, I enjoyed being a surgeon, but I'm no longer prepared to make the necessary commitment to work at that level, now that I have you and James Henry in my life."

"All or nothing, that is very much you, isn't it?" Louisa sighed. "But would working in Truro be as demanding as working in London was?

"It would be if I undertook it. I wouldn't be prepared to give anything less than 100% to the role wherever it may be located. In any case, you don't really want to move to Truro do you?"

"It is tricky with my job," Louisa agreed.

"And commuting to Truro every day isn't really an option for me with the hours I would be working. I mean, it's over an hour each way, even on a good day. Put that on top of a very long working day, and I'd hardly be here at all, it just wouldn't be worth it."

"No, I can see that. But what about the other option, working as a surgeon three days a week and staying over in Truro for a couple of nights?"

"I don't wish to be away from you and James."

"I know, but wouldn't you like the opportunity to put your surgical skills to good use? Aren't you somewhat wasted here in our little village?"

"Now you're beginning to sound like Edith," I muttered.

"Don't say that Martin! I just think that maybe there is a way to compromise that will keep us all happy."

"Sometimes you just have to accept that you can't have everything. I've decided that being with my family is the most important thing for me."

"_You've_ decided. Shouldn't that be '_we've_ decided'?"

"Same thing."

"No, it isn't at all Martin. I've been thinking too, and maybe…well maybe it would do us good to have some time apart each week," Louisa hesitantly suggested, as she looked up at me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, not liking the sound of this at all.

"Let's face it, although we've established beyond any doubt now that we really do love each other, we are quite different aren't we?" Louisa reached over to squeeze my hand as she said this, in an apparent move to reassure me, as I imagine my face was reflecting my unease. "You hate socialising, whereas I like having friends round or going out to meet friends at the pub. I mean, look what happened when it was your birthday."

Last month, Louisa had suggested that we have some friends round to dinner, or else meet up for a drink at the pub to celebrate my birthday. I'd told her that I'd rather watch paint dry. All I'd wanted to do was to have a nice quiet meal at home with her, which she had informed me was boring, and just the same as any other night.

"I really don't mind if you wish to go out and meet up with your friends without me, and I'm very happy to mind James while you do," I replied.

"Yes, but you hate it if I want to have friends round, or if I arrange a school PTA meeting at home. If you were away for a couple of nights in the week, I could do things like that then. And while you were over in Truro, you could immerse yourself totally to concentrate on your surgical role. Then when you came home you could be all ours again."

"I see. So not only do you not want to marry me, you don't even want to spend the whole week with me now," I said, struggling to see how she could possibly think this was a good idea.

"I'm just trying to be sensible and realistic Martin. Having our own space might be good for us. I mean, I know I drive you nutty at times because I'm not as obsessively tidy as you are. You don't like my music, and you think the TV programs I watch are a waste of time. You can't deny that's true, can you?"

I just shrugged, knowing that I would probably be in the wrong whatever I said.

"If we had some time apart, we could each do our own thing, and then when we were together again we could make it really special."

"But what about James? I want to share his upbringing, be here with him," I said. I took him from Louisa as he was getting restless and bored. He smiled at me as he dribbled and drooled over me, but I didn't really mind. I'd had far worse over the years, and I just wiped him with the muslin cloth that I'd learnt to always have to hand around the baby.

"Well if you were only away two nights a week, that wouldn't be too bad would it? Then you could take your turn with him when you were back home. I really think it's do-able Martin. It might not suit everyone, but I think it could work for us. We don't have to be the same as everyone else in how we arrange things between us, do we?"

"But I'd have to take on a partner. Imagine, God forbid, they landed me with someone like that totally useless Doctor Dibbs." The thought appalled me, and frankly I couldn't imagine anything worse.

"You would no doubt be involved in the selection process, help interview the candidates and so on. I'm sure Chris Parsons would want that. And if the hospital is so keen to have you on any terms, you could specify that you would only be ready to start once you had found a partner that you deemed suitable. And as we will be living at White Rose Cottage, it wouldn't matter that someone else was working at your surgery for part of the week. They could even live here, then they could deal with the inevitable out of hours requests from the villagers."

I began to think through what Louisa was suggesting. I couldn't deny that the set up at Truro had appealed to me, and under different circumstances I would have definitely been interested.

"And in the school holidays, maybe James and I could come over to Truro, meet you for dinner or lunch maybe, if you could spare the time to schedule us in. And then when you came home at the weekends, we could have nice cosy reunions, if you catch my drift," Louisa said, as she placed her hand on my knee and gave me a wicked smile.

"You've been giving this a lot of thought it seems, but I don't know Louisa, I'm still not really convinced," I said.

"It's not…well…you're not worried that your blood thing will re surface are you?" Louisa gripped my hand, as her face showed her concern.

"No, it's not that at all. If it was going to resurface, it would have done so when I operated on your mother, but I was fine," I assured her.

"Then think about what I'm suggesting Martin. Will you at least do that for me?"

"Alright, I suppose I can, if you insist," I reluctantly agreed, more to keep Louisa happy than anything else. James was sucking his thumb and rubbing his eyes now. "I think it's time for this young man's nap, I'll take him up and get him settled."

As I cuddled my baby son close to me on our way upstairs to the nursery, I wondered if I dared to let myself dream of what it could be like to experience the challenge of surgery once more. Could it really be possible to have it all, a family _and_ some sort of a surgical career?


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 15**

Martin was right about one thing anyway – it would have been a big mistake if I had gone to London with him.

I'd been taken by surprise when he'd first suggested that the baby and I accompany him. It didn't fit into my plans at all, because I'd accepted by that time that Martin was returning to London, to be with that cow Edith, while I stayed on my own in the village to bring up our child. The fact that circumstances had prevailed to ensure that Martin was present at the birth to bond with his son had thrown all those plans out of the window it seemed.

And he'd kept on asking me to go to London with him, which was unusual for Martin. Of course he was his usual rude and tactless self about my job, belittling it and ignoring the fact that I really loved it. But seeing the bond that was developing between Martin and our son, seeing how, contrary to my expectations, Martin was actually very good with him, made me start to re assess my initial rejection of his offer.

I weighed up all the pros and cons. I'd never previously enjoyed living in London, but then I'd always had to live in the grottier, run down parts. Last time I'd been on my own, worried sick about how on earth I was going to manage as a single mother. This time I would be with the baby's father, living in a posh flat in Kensington, so maybe this would be different, this could be fun, I'd told myself.

There were plenty of schools in London that could offer challenging teaching posts, and maybe that would look more impressive on my CV that a little Cornish village school that no one had heard of.

Martin had worked so hard to overcome his blood thing to win a top consultants post again, surely I should try to be supportive of him. He was so brilliant and gifted that maybe I just had to forgive him his funny ways, learn to live with them.

But as time went on, the little nagging doubts that I kept pushing to the back of my mind got louder, refusing to be ignored. Living together in those early weeks after James Henry was born reinforced to me yet again what a difficult man Martin was. He hardly spoke to me, never discussed anything, or consulted me about our living arrangements, never complimented me in any way, or showed the slightest sign that he still fancied me.

I was going to give up my job, move hundreds of miles away from my friends, be on my own a lot of the time, with just the company of this cold fish. How could I be happy? How could this be the right environment to bring up our son? A flat with no garden, neighbours who probably never spoke to you, and a partner who didn't even want me to go out to work for the foreseeable future. I'd feel suffocated.

Of course it had all come to a head over the arrangements for the Christening when I'd ended up walking out, and it wasn't until Mrs Tishell's actions had forced Martin to open up to me about his feelings that we had finally begun to communicate and make progress. And I was determined that we were going to continue to make progress, and that Martin was going to have to get used to being more open about his feelings to me. This morning we had made a start, but there was still a long way to go.

**xXx**

Martin had been gone for a while now putting James down for his nap, so I wandered upstairs to see what was happening. All was quiet as I approached the nursery, so I popped my head round the door.

Martin was sat in the rocking chair, with James Henry tucked up in his cuddly blanket, lying across his chest. They were both fast asleep, and looked the picture of contentment. I couldn't help myself, I just had to get a record of this lovely moment, so I quietly sneaked off to get my camera.

Of course, just the quiet click of the camera was enough to disturb Martin, and he came to with a start.

"I err…I was just making sure he didn't have any wind before I put him down," he whispered as he carefully got up and put James in his cot.

I put my arms round his waist to hug him as he came out of the room.

"You don't have to explain. You had a disturbed night, you must be tired."

"I'm fine," he said, but he didn't try to stop me cuddling him. He felt so nice, so big and comforting somehow, and I could just imagine how James felt safe in those arms.

"You know, I'm very proud of you," I said as I laid my head against his chest.

"Why? What for?"

"Do you remember how you were scared to even hold our baby when he was first born? Claimed you might drop him and that you weren't very good with babies?"

"Hmm, well I'd never had any experience with babies before."

"But you're learning, aren't you, just as you said you would."

"That was your suggestion as I recall."

"Well I would say you deserve full marks for effort," I said, as I reached up to tenderly kiss his cheek.

Just being up close to him was really stirring up my desire for him again, and although my head was telling me that we still had lots of talking to do and to keep a clear head, the rest of me wasn't listening at all. I tentatively kissed his lips to see how things stood after everything that had passed between us in the last day.

By the fact that he returned my kiss without hesitation, I knew that he felt the magnetism between us just as much as I did.

"We still need to talk," I murmered.

"There's plenty of time for all that later. I've told you I'll think about what you said," Martin whispered as he nibbled my ear lobe and then started working his way down my neck with nuzzling little kisses. His hands wandered over my waist, over my hips and then round to cup my bottom to pull me hard against him and it was immediately apparent that he was just as turned on as I was. I tugged at his tie to loosen it and undo his top button, thinking how much sexier he always looked when he relaxed enough to show some skin.

We were on the landing area between our bedroom and the nursery, so we stumbled our way into our room. I pulled my jumper and trousers off, and when I saw the appreciative look in Martin's eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed to watch me, I was very glad that I had put on some pretty pink lacy underwear this morning.

"Do you like what you see?" I flirted, as I stood just out of his reach.

"You know I do," he growled, as he reached over to grab me and pulled me to stand between his legs.

I smiled rather wickedly as I removed his tie and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, thrilled that clearly we were in for another of our bedroom adventures.

**xXx**

"You're not off the hook you know. Just because you happen to be _very_ talented in certain ways…"

I couldn't believe that I'd actually screamed out his name at my peak this time. I thought that people only did that in films or books, and I was thankful that the baby was obviously deeply asleep - and that we were a detached cottage up on the hill here. I would have to curb myself when we were back at my terraced cottage where you could hear the neighbours if they so much as sneezed.

Martin actually had a smug little smile on his face now.

"I always perform to the best of my ability, whatever the task in hand," he told me, clearly feeling rather proud of himself.

"Oh I see, I'm a 'task in hand', am I Doctor Ellingham?" I said, as I prodded him playfully from where I was still lying collapsed on top of him.

Martin grabbed my bottom to give it a squeeze.

"Very much in hand Miss Glasson. And anyway, what do you mean, I'm not off the hook? What have I done wrong now?"

"I mean, just because we are…you know…because you can…that is…" I tried to explain and failed miserably. I didn't want to upset him again, make him storm off as he had after the last time we'd made love. But neither did I want him to assume that everything was sorted between us just because we'd had a great time in bed.

"What? Is there something more that I should have done? I thought that I performed adequately."

"Yes, I think it's fair to say that you were at least 'adequate' Martin, but you can't just assume that great sex between us papers over all the other issues that we still have to sort between us. That's all I'm saying," I said as I kissed him and held him tight so that he wouldn't feel rejected by my words.

"You're not still banging on about all those 'feelings' things are you?" Martin sighed. "I've told you that I love you. You say you love me. I've said that I will give some thought to your suggestions for my working arrangements, which you only brought up this morning. So I can't see what else I need to do to comply with your wishes at the moment Louisa."

"OK Martin, you win. Let's just relax and enjoy the rest of Boxing Day. And for now, I'm starving, so let's go find some food hmm?" I tried to move away from Martin, but he wouldn't let me go.

"We are alright though aren't we? I mean, I haven't got it all wrong have I? I'm not missing anything else that you aren't telling me?"

I suddenly saw a look of panic in his eyes, and realised that he was still terribly lacking in the necessary skills when it came to interpreting other people's feelings.

"Yes Martin, we _are_ alright. You've done so well to open up to me as much as you have, and I love you so much for it. I just want to make sure we carry on in the same way, that's all."

"I couldn't bear to be without you Louisa," he whispered quietly as he wrapped his arms around me to hold me very tightly indeed.

I realised just how very vulnerable my Martin really was, and I felt a fierce and intense protective love for him sweep over me.

"It's going to be alright Martin, everything is going to be just fine, we are going to work everything out, you'll see," I told him as I gently rocked his head against my breast.

**xXx**

Of course later that afternoon, you would never have known that Martin had acted in that way with me. We'd had a light lunch, having decided to have our main meal later on. James Henry had woken from his nap and had his lunch. We were now all sat in the lounge as Martin helped me to set up my iPad, inputting the code to enable it to log onto the wifi, and linking it to my laptop.

He watched as I excitedly started uploading all my photo files. I loved photos, and had lots of files.

He started to take an interest in some of the old family photos that I had scanned in.

"Is that you?" he asked as he looked at one of a smiling dark haired baby.

"Sure is," I confirmed.

"I can see a likeness to James Henry," he stated as he studied it, and then looked over at the baby who was sitting mesmerised by the lights on the Christmas tree.

"Really? I can't, he's the spitting image of you, that's all I can see," I replied. No one could ever doubt that Martin was the Daddy, however much the gossips might have liked to imply otherwise.

"His smile is yours, no question," Martin decreed.

"Hard to say, as no one ever gets to see your smile, do they?" I teased.

Martin just grunted by way of a reply.

Next he studied a picture of me with my Dad, where I was looking up at him adoringly – I was only about five years old, so the disillusionment hadn't set in yet.

"When is he due out?"

"Up for parole in about eighteen months."

Another grunt from Martin.

Next were some school photos, and of course in the class photo I was next to Danny, as I always was in those days.

"Is that the architect?"

"Yes, that's Danny."

I began to feel a little uncomfortable as I realised which photos were coming up next.

Pictures of Danny and me from our teenage years, sometimes with a group of friends, sometimes just the two of us. I'd kept them because they were part of my growing up, my history.

Danny and I holding hands, laughing together. Silly ones in a photo booth where I'd been sitting on his lap.

Martin's face was inscrutable as he studied them.

"It was all a very long time ago," I said breezily as I tried to skip over them, but Martin wouldn't let me.

"Was he…?" Martin asked in a low, quiet voice.

"Was he what?" I asked, guessing what Martin wanted to know but not really wanting to answer.

"Was he…you know, your _first_?"

"Yes, Martin, he was my first. But we were just teenagers messing around."

Danny, good looking, charming, the one all the girls at school had drooled over, but he had been going out with _me_, he had chosen_ me _over all the other gorgeous leggy blondes that threw themselves at him. So I had lost my virginity to him in a rather clumsy, fumbling and somewhat painful session in his bedroom when his mum had been away. I'd thought we were going to be together forever, as you do when you are seventeen years old and believe yourself madly in love. It had been a nasty wake up call to discover that Danny had dropped me when he'd got involved with new friends at his uni hundreds of miles away from where I was at teacher training college.

"What about when he came back to the village?" Martin stared at me. It had been no secret that he had despised Danny, and I'd never been sure if he would have hated him anyway, or whether the hatred had been purely down to jealousy,

"Oh Martin, I'm not sure this is helpful," I protested, but as Martin continued to stare at me and raised his eyebrows, I realised he just _had_ to know. "No, nothing ever happened between us when he was back that time, apart from a chaste kiss or two on the cheek between old friends."

"But he asked you to marry him, he must have thought things were serious between you," he pressed me.

"Danny didn't know what he wanted. And anyway, I broke things off with him didn't I? All because of a certain grumpy doctor that I was secretly in love with and tried to get closer to, as you may recall."

Another grunt from Martin.

"While we are on the subject…" I thought maybe now was my opportunity to ask something that I had been dying to know but never thought I'd get the chance to ask.

"Yes?"

"Was…Edith…_your _first?"

"Yes. Unlike you, I didn't have the opportunity to 'mess around' as a teenager. It wasn't until I was at medical school that I had the opportunity to lose my virginity."

"I see."

Well I had asked, so I could hardly get sniffy about it. And clearly neither of us at our ages had come into this relationship as virgins. But it was interesting to get some background on Martin, and I wondered what other secrets lurked in his cupboard. But as I didn't want Martin to start asking too many other questions about my history, I decided to change the subject.

"So, what subjects did you take at 'A' level?"

"Biology, chemistry, physics and maths. Standard subjects required to get into Medical School."

"Of course. And naturally you got all 'A' grades I take it?"

"Naturally. So what subjects did you take?"

"English Literature, English Language, History and French. Also all 'A' grades."

I'd worked my socks off to get those grades, whereas I expect Martin had just breezed through his.

"Then our child should at least have inherited a reasonable IQ," Martin stated, clearly with some satisfaction.

I swooped to pick James up and swing him around.

"We'll still love him even if he turns out to be as thick as two short planks, won't we?" I laughed as I blew a raspberry on his neck to make him shriek with laughter.

But somehow I had a funny feeling that was not going to be the case with our precious son.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 16**

Louisa had suggested that I bathe James Henry and get him ready for bed that evening while she prepared our Boxing Day meal, a simple affair of cold meats and pickles.

"You can give him a bottle if you like. I think it's about time I started weaning him in any case," she told me.

"Yes, because of him acquiring some teeth," I agreed, and then as Louisa looked at me in a slightly puzzled manner, I hastily added "I assume that's what you're thinking anyhow."

I'd nearly given away the fact that I'd overhead her little conversation in the night with James. Clearly Louisa had forgotten about the baby monitor in our bedroom, and I hadn't been able to help listening in. It had at least been reassuring to hear her telling the baby that she did love me, and that she thought that I was turning out to be be a half decent parent anyway, even if she apparently also thought that I was 'stupid and stubborn'.

And so I had my son all to myself for a while, as I gave him his bath which he always enjoyed, kicking and splashing the water everywhere. However, as I was fully equipped with a plastic apron, his messy activities posed no real problems for me.

Louisa had instructed me to read him some books after his bath and before I gave him his bottle

"It's never too early to instil a love of books Martin. I intend that he will always have books read to him at bedtime, and you never know, when he's old enough for stories like Harry Potter, you might find that you enjoy it and look forward to reading the next instalment every bit as much as he does."

I thought this extremely unlikely, and that reading to a child of just a few months old was rather pointless as he wouldn't understand any of it, but I had to admit that as I read him one of the new books that Louisa had given him for Christmas, one with big pictures of baby animals and their correct names, he stared intently as if fascinated. I supposed that I had to bow to Louisa's expertise when it came to teaching children, and I made a mental note to look up what age these Harry Potter books she had mentioned were suitable for.

It felt so very nice just relaxing and sitting with our baby, who was all nice and clean and warm after his bath, with his wonderful baby smell. As I gave him his bottle, he looked up at me with his big blue eyes, content and at ease and so trusting that I could be relied upon to look after him. I made a little vow to myself never to let his trust in me be misplaced.

**xXx**

When I came back downstairs once James was settled, I was surprised to see that the kitchen lights were off, the room instead being illuminated by candles on the table. Louisa had clearly gone to a lot of trouble in setting the table beautifully with my best plates and glasses, and nice linen serviettes.

"You don't mind do you? Only I thought with you being back at work tomorrow, this was our last chance to have a special meal together."

"No, of course I don't mind. It all looks very…umm…nice," I replied, not too sure about the candles, but not wishing to seem ungrateful for the effort she had clearly made. Louisa smiled back happily as we sat down together, and poured us both just water into the wine glasses she had set out. Thankfully she seemed to have forgotten about the bottle of champagne that Aunt Ruth had left behind yesterday.

"I'll go up and look in on James in a little while, but did he take his bottle OK?" she enquired, as she passed me a plate so that I could help myself to the food she had laid out.

"Yes, no problem at all." I assured her. James liked his food, and usually happily took whatever was offered to him.

"That's good. We shouldn't have any problems weaning him then, although I will be sad."

"Louisa, you've given him the best possible start, and weaning him is just normal progression. You don't want to be one of those women who are still breastfeeding a two year old do you? And it means that I will be able to help out more."

"Yes, I know, but still…it means he's already growing up," Louisa said rather wistfully. "But on the plus side, once I stop feeding, it will mean that I can think about going on the pill."

I looked up at her, taken somewhat by surprise.

"I don't know about that Louisa. At your age, the pill may not present the best solution contraceptive wise."

"Oh come on Martin, I'm not that old, and I'm fit and healthy. And surely you can't deny that it would be very nice not to have to use condoms."

I couldn't disagree that that was indeed a very appealing thought, but I wasn't going to let myself be swayed by selfish reasons if I didn't feel going on the pill was in Louisa's best interests health wise.

"Well once James Henry is fully weaned, I will give you a full examination and run some tests before any decisions are made. " Just because I wasn't officially Louisa's GP didn't mean that I was going to let her go to Doctor Hearn over at Wadebride to get a prescription before I was completely satisfied.

"Yes, Martin," Louisa sighed, clearly understanding that I would not be swayed from this. Nothing was more important than hers and James' health to me.

We ate for a while in a companionable silence, and as I looked over at Louisa in the candle light, I thought she looked so very beautiful. She had let her dark glossy hair down instead of wearing it in her usual pony tail, and her eyes seemed to catch the candlelight to sparkle at me, tonight looking more blue than green. They fascinated me by how much they seemed to vary in colour, depending on the light, or what she was wearing – and her mood. I'd managed to work out that if they seemed to flash a more green shade at me, I'd better watch out as I had clearly done something to upset her.

Although I knew that it was medically impossible, my heart seemed to skip a beat when she smiled over at me, then reached out to touch my hand.

"So Martin, any thoughts yet on what we talked about? About you taking up the job in Truro?"

I heaved a big sigh as I withdrew my hand from hers.

"For goodness sake Louisa, I thought we agreed that I would take some time to think it over. If I'm not allowed to…" I stopped myself short, realising that we were likely to end up rowing again if I didn't.

"What? What were you going to say?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"No, come on, say it. If you're not allowed to… what?"

"Alright, since you ask. If I'm not allowed to bring up the subject of us getting married, if that is considered 'rushing things' despite the fact that we have known each other now for several years and have a baby together, then I think you expecting me to discuss a matter that was only raised this morning is frankly pretty hypocritical and unreasonable Louisa."

There I'd said it; I'd brought up the dreaded subject of marriage again. But I couldn't help it, I still felt so frustrated by her attitude.

"Oh, Martin it's not the same thing at all. You _have_ to make a decision about your job soon, they will be expecting an answer, and you're back at work tomorrow, so you'll be too busy for us to talk things through."

"As far as I was concerned up until this morning, I had already made up my mind about the job. In case you've forgotten, you once accused me of putting my career before the interests of my son. So I'd have thought that you would've been pleased that I decided being a GP fitted around having a family in a much more practical way than being a surgeon. But apparently you have decided that you would rather have me out from under your feet for several days a week."

"Martin! That's not what I said at all and you know it. I just want you to be fulfilled in your job, and I really think we could make it work for us."

"Be careful what you wish for Louisa, I think maybe it's you who hasn't thought things through properly. You don't really like it now when I spend time researching and studying in the evenings. Being a surgeon is not a nine to five job, and it would entail even more research and preparation, on top of also working as a GP part of the week. Sometimes a patient has to be rushed back into surgery unexpectedly, so I couldn't always guarantee to be back when expected, or not to have to return to Truro over the weekend in an emergency."

"I do realise all these things, I'm not stupid, but I still think it provides a good compromise between your career and a home life," Louisa insisted.

We looked at each other in silence for a couple of minutes in a standoff.

"So Louisa, if I were to say 'yes' to the Truro post,_ then_ would you agree to marry me?" I broke the silence to ask, deciding to get to the crux of the matter. If that was what it took, then I would do it.

"Oh Martin, It's not as cut and dried as that." Louisa reached out to take my hand in hers again, and this time wouldn't let me pull it away.

"I just don't understand, you're not being logical as far as I can see. You say you want us to be together long term, so what is your problem about getting married? Is it against your feminist principles or something? But if that's the case then why did you agree to marry me the first time around? Or is that why you got cold feet, because you didn't want to be a 'wife'?"

"I'm really not the militant feminist you seem to think I am, and I don't have a problem about being married, not when the time is right," Louisa assured me.

Thinking of her reaction to the thought of being a 'kept woman' , together with the fact that she had left it so long before informing me of her pregnancy, insisting that that she was fine on her own and didn't need a man, I wasn't convinced.

"So how will you judge when the time is right? Maybe it will never be right as far as you're concerned. Maybe you have some deep seated issues because your parents clearly had a disastrous marriage."

"Steady on now Martin, you'll be suggesting I need counselling next," Louisa tried to joke with me, but from the expression on her face clearly I had hit a nerve. "All I'm saying is that we need to get the basic organisation of our lives sorted out, and then with that foundation in place, that will be the time to think about getting married."

"So, what sort of time scale are we talking here? Even if I do take the Truro post, it will take several months to organise."

"Look, why don't you consider taking it on a trial basis? Give yourself a year; stipulate that your partner is taken on a year's contract initially, with the option to extend if required – I think it's pretty common place these days to have a fixed term contract. Then if it doesn't work out, you can come back here full time as the GP, and at least we will know then that it wasn't a workable option. "

"I suppose that could work, that is quite a sensible option," I conceded, hardly daring to let myself believe that I could actually return to being a surgeon, and that we could possibly make this arrangement work.

"Of course it is," Louisa said as she leant over the table to kiss me.

"But are you going to make me wait a whole year before you're even going to assess if the time is right? For us to get married I mean. "

"Oh Martin, you're not really going to be happy until we've set some kind of a date are you? How about once everything has calmed down and you've settled in your new job, then we'll see about setting a date, maybe in the late Summer or Autumn?"

"Yes! Wherever, whenever you want, I really don't mind at all, whatever sort of a wedding you want, just us in the middle of a field, or with hoards of people in a bloody great cathedral, either is absolutely fine by me!"

It still wasn't a definite date, and it was much longer to wait than I would have liked, but at least she seemed to be agreeing to marry me, so I felt a huge wave of relief and happiness and joy course through me. I jumped up from the table to gather Louisa up in my arms, knocking over one of my antique wine glasses and breaking it in the process, but I couldn't have cared less.

Louisa laughed as I lifted her off her feet in a great big bear hug, much as I had done the first time she had accepted my proposal. But now I was determined that come hell or high water, nothing and no one would stop us from getting married this time around.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.

Happy Ever After – The Real World

Chapter 17

Of course we ended up in bed after I told Martin that we could think about setting a date to get married once everything has been sorted out with his job and so on. He hugged me, and then we kissed, and inevitably one thing led to another, and we actually came pretty close to making love right there in the kitchen, until we realised that we didn't have a condom.

"See, if I was on the pill, we wouldn't have to worry, we could be completely spontaneous," I pointed out, when we had to stop ourselves rather abruptly.

"Maybe I just need to remember to keep a spare condom in my pocket," Martin suggested with a raised eyebrow, as he led me upstairs to our bedroom where we impatiently threw off our clothes.

It was wonderful that we could be so relaxed and confident with each other now in the way that only lovers who really trust each other are able, those who have shared the ultimate intimacies together.

However, I couldn't help but feel rather guilty because Martin was so happy at the thought of us setting a date, but for me, all it seemed to do was rake up bad memories of the last time we had attempted a wedding, however hard I tried to push all those negative thoughts to the back of my mind.

"So…uhm…what you said earlier, does this mean that we are now officially engaged?" Martin tentatively enquired a bit later. We were lying spooning together cosily, as we listened to the pouring rain outside.

"Well…I suppose you could say it does," I agreed, and in response I felt Martin hug me and kiss the top of my head.

"I want to do everything properly this time round Louisa. I want to get you a decent engagement ring, I didn't even think about it last time until Joan suggested that I give you her mother's ring. It was very remiss of me."

"Oh Martin, I thought that ring was lovely, very special and personal. But you do understand why I had to give it back to you don't you?"

"Yes, of course. But that's why I want us to have a completely fresh start, and for us not to have any reminders of last time. You can choose whatever you want, we'll go to the best jewellers, in fact maybe we could take a trip up to London…"

"Whoa Martin, just hold on a minute now. A ring isn't necessary you know, I'm really not bothered about expensive jewellery. And in any case, I'd rather we just kept our news to ourselves for now. I don't want everyone interfering and taking over like they did last time, and an engagement ring would be a bit of a giveaway wouldn't it?"

"Well you'll certainly get no argument from me about keeping our personal affairs private Louisa. The only person I might consider taking into our confidence is my Aunt Ruth."

Remembering how Ruth had known about the date for the Christening even before I had, this didn't really surprise me.

"Anyhow, do you really think anyone would notice if you were wearing a ring?" Martin continued.

"How long have you lived here? It would be all round the village in the space of time it would take for me to walk from my cottage to the school. You know I'm right."

"I suppose so," Martin agreed reluctantly.

"Let's not worry about things like that until much nearer the time hmm?" I suggested.

"I…err…don't suppose there's any chance of you considering a Spring Wedding, instead of waiting until later in the year is there?" Martin suggested hesitantly.

"Martin! For goodness sake, stop pushing things! I really don't know what the big rush is, and anyway you're going to have plenty of things to keep you busy, what with arranging to take on a partner, taking on your new role and so on."

"I was only asking Louisa, no need to snap my head off. I just think it might make more sense for us to have all our affairs in order before I become embroiled in my new working arrangements, that's all."

I had a sneaky feeling that Martin wanted to march me down the aisle as soon as he could because he suspected that I was going to change my mind about the whole 'marriage' business, and in all honesty I couldn't say that he was wrong. If it was up to me, we would just carry on as we were, I was perfectly content with things as they were. And in my book 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it', as they say.

It wasn't as if being married would suddenly magically make everything perfect. My parents had been married, and it hadn't stopped them from rowing bitterly night after night, causing me to lie with my hands over my ears to try and block it out as I lay in bed with the blankets pulled right up over my head. Being married hadn't stopped my mother from running away and abandoning her young daughter when she'd upped and gone to Spain. Being married hadn't stopped my Dad from gambling away his wages instead of spending them on his family. So basically, what was the point of being married? It wasn't as if there was any stigma these days for a child if his parents weren't married – a substantial proportion of the kids at my school came from families where the parents weren't married.

And I hadn't said anything to Martin when he'd talked about how he wanted us all to have the same surname, for me to be Louisa _Ellingham_, but actually, I rather liked being Louisa _Glasson_, so I was toying with the idea of remaining 'Glasson' even if we did get married. But as James Henry had been registered 'Ellingham', probably for his sake I would bow to convention.

Clearly marriage was important to my very old fashioned and traditional Martin, and as I loved him very much, I was willing to go down the marriage route – but only when I was good and ready.

"I'm sorry Martin. I didn't mean to snap at you. Let's just see how things go, what sort of time scale we have to work to once you've let the hospital know that you're going to accept their offer, and also when Chris Parsons knows that you're going to need to take on a partner."

"Very well Louisa," Martin heaved a sigh, I think realising that he'd pushed me as far as he could.

To soften the blow, I turned round and kissed him softly on his lips as I gently stroked his cheek.

"Don't worry so much Martin. We love each other, and we're very happy living together with our baby aren't we? The rest will come together all in good time, hmm?"

"I suppose so. I don't really have much choice do I?" Martin grumbled rather resentfully, but he started kissing me back and then slipped his hands around my waist to pull me closer to him. Just as things began to get interesting again, we heard James start to cry, and as I glanced at the clock, I realised it was indeed time for his late feed.

"Ah, saved by the baby," I said, as I extracted myself from Martin's arms to slip out of bed. I pulled my dressing gown on and made my way to the nursery, very aware that because Martin had given James a bottle earlier, my boobs were literally overflowing with milk now and it would be a relief to feed my son. At least when the baby was weaned, Martin might feel more comfortable in touching my breasts – he was understandably very tentative and gentle with me in that area.

James nearly choked when the let-down response set my copious milk flowing, but he soon settled down to greedily enjoy the bounteous supply with a look of blissful contentment on his face. I told myself that he would be just as happy with a bottle of formula, as long as he was closely cuddled, and his tummy ended up full.

I heard Martin go downstairs, and from the sounds emanating from the kitchen, I realised that rather than leave the dishes, he was clearing up the mess that we'd left in our haste earlier. Of course, he didn't want to leave them until the morning because Morwenna would be turning up for work, as well as the inevitable stream of patients. I sighed to myself, knowing that although I didn't have to return to work yet, I would not be able to enjoy a proper lie in or slob about downstairs in my pyjamas and dressing gown as I had been able to the last few days. Roll on next week when we would be moving back into the privacy of White Rose Cottage.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.

Happy Ever After – The Real World

Chapter 18

"You're late Morwenna," Doc Martin stated, his face wearing the usual grumpy expression as he pointedly looked at the clock on the wall.

"Only a couple of minutes Doc. Have a heart, most places aren't even open today, most sensible people have taken the time off between Christmas and New Year," I said as I threw my coat off and quickly switched the PC on at my desk. There were already four patients lined up to see the Doc, even though it had only just gone eight thirty.

"Unfortunately illnesses do not take holidays, as evidenced by the queue of patients already waiting. Please print off my list for today and bring it through to me immediately."

With that the miserable sod disappeared into his consulting room.

"Yea, thanks for asking, I did have a nice Christmas actually," I muttered under my breath, but the Doc seemed to have superhuman hearing as he shouted back,

"Christmas is over, just concentrate on getting your job done."

I quickly printed his list off, and realised that actually three of the four people waiting had just turned up without an appointment.

"Send in Mrs Lamb first as she has an actual appointment, the others will just have to be fitted in," the Doc pronounced when I took his list in to him.

"Ooh, nice pic of your little lad, he looks quite cute, maybe cos he looks more like Louisa when he smiles eh?" I said, as I picked up the framed photo from his desk. The Doc snatched it out of my hand and put it back on his desk.

"Mind your own business, and don't touch things that don't belong to you," he practically snarled at me.

"I was only saying like, no need to be so touchy," I sniffed back at him. God that man really needed to take a chill pill sometimes. How Louisa put up with him I couldn't begin to imagine, and the fact that they'd clearly shagged to end up with a baby was beyond belief and totally disgusting. Maybe she'd got drunk and felt sorry for him, and they'd ended up playing doctors and nurses or something, that's all I could think.

He was an alright doctor, I suppose I had to give him that. The way he'd operated on Louisa's mum right here in the surgery, that had been dead cool. Just a shame about everything else about him really.

As I made my way back to my desk, I heard Mrs Lamb talking about her daughter Pauline, and I pricked up my ears to see if it was likely that she was going to be coming back to the village and wanting her old job back. I'd be pretty peeved if that was the case as I'd finally got a job that I'd hung on to for more than a week or so, and granddad was actually quite proud of me, which I was pretty chuffed about. My Mum had died when I was just a baby, and then my dad had been killed in an accident out on his fishing boat, so granddad had looked after me since then. These days though, it was more me looking after him as he'd become quite frail since his heart attack.

"Wasn't going to stick around here was she, not when that Doctor Dibbs messed her around like that, one minute saying she could carry on as practice manager, then her husband taking over and saying she'd only be the filing clerk, paying just a fraction of the money she'd been on."

"Right funny one that Doctor Dibbs, thought she was alright at first, seemed really nice, but turned out she didn't know her arse from her elbow. At least Doc Martin is a proper doc, he knows his stuff even if he is a miserable git," Mrs Coleridge sympathised.

"Well, it's done my Pauline a favour as it turns out, she's been working in a nursing home over Bristol way, and now she's got a place to do her proper nurses training."

"What about her and Al then?" Mrs Coleridge enquired.

"Oh that all fizzled out, never really going anywhere was it?" Mrs Lamb replied, before she hastily made her way in to see the Doc when he bellowed out her name.

I heaved a sigh of relief as it seemed that there was no reason for Pauline to come back to the village any time soon.

I smiled over at the people waiting, before getting a mirror out of my handbag to check my makeup. I hadn't meant to have such a late night last night, but I'd been round at my mate Abbey's, and we'd been having a right laugh, and I hadn't realised the time. Course then I'd overslept this morning and it had been a rush to get ready. And it had been stupidly windy as I'd walked up to work, so my hair was a mess. I quickly fixed it and sorted out my new dangly earrings – these ones were particularly groovy as they had feathers and sparkly beads, but of course the Doc never noticed things like that, never appreciated the effort I made to look good for the job.

"Alright Morwenna? Did you have a nice Christmas?" Louisa called out as she came downstairs with the baby. At least she was friendly, and I'd always be grateful to her for getting me this job.

"Yea, great thanks, how about you?"

"Lovely, really nice," Louisa said, as she gave me a big smile. I found that hard to believe if she'd spent it with old grumpy britches.

"Terrible storm wasn't it? Seems to have calmed down though thank goodness, just a bit windy now," I replied.

"Oh that's good, I need to go into the village to get some supplies. Running a bit short on nappies, aren't we young man?" Louisa said as she kissed the baby, before heading off towards the kitchen.

"Aw, what a lovely baby," said Mrs Coleridge, as she smiled at the woman sitting next to her. "Do you think they're going to make a go of things, you know, her and the Doc?"

I snorted at the very idea, but covered up with a cough as the other woman, Mrs Trevaran , looked over at me.

"Seems that way, don't it? With him not going off to London after all. Would be nice to see them happily married wouldn't it? Maybe he proposed over Christmas eh?" Mrs Trevaran smiled conspiratorially as she nudged her neighbour.

"Well no sign of a ring on her finger, so I'm guessing not. Think she's gonna have her work cut out, getting that one down the aisle if you ask me, he's such a cold unfeeling tosser isn't he?" Mrs Coleridge replied to her fellow gossip.

"Yea, I noticed too that she hadn't got a ring, such a shame. But at least he's standing by her and the baby now, you can't argue about that, he's doing the decent thing."

They were interrupted from their conversation when Mrs Lamb came storming out from the Doc.

"If you can't manage to stick to a simple lactose free diet for just a couple of days over Christmas, then don't come complaining to me when your symptoms return," the Doc was calling after her.

"Well really, got to celebrate the festive season haven't you?" she huffed as she zipped her coat up and made her way out.

"Next patient!" the Doc bellowed, and I nodded over at Mrs Coleridge to go in.

It was going to be a long day, I thought to myself as I yawned and thought longingly of my bed.

**xXx**

A bit later in the morning when there was a bit of a lull, I saw the Doc heading to the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee,so I followed him out to grab a cup for myself – I really needed some caffeine to help me stay awake.

I couldn't believe my eyes as I walked into the kitchen – he and Louisa were snogging! Well not exactly snogging maybe, but definitely kissing, and the Doc actually looked, well _happy_ I suppose. I'd certainly never seen him look that way before.

Of course when they saw me they sprang apart like a couple of naughty teenagers.

"What do you want?" snapped the Doc.

"Just getting a cup of coffee, don't mind me, you just carry on," I smirked as I poured my drink.

"Right well, I'll see you later," Louisa said, as she did her coat up and then busied herself with putting the rainhood up on the buggy.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright out there? It's still pretty windy I believe," the Doc queried as he leant over the buggy to feel the baby's cheek.

"Oh yes, the storm's passed over now, and I could really do with some fresh air. Plus we need a few things. You'd better get back anyway, your patients will soon start backing up. So I'll see you at lunchtime then?"

The Doc just grunted his agreement, as he held the kitchen door open for Louisa to make her way out with the buggy, then he turned and glared at me.

"Get back to your desk Morwenna. And I've told you before that jeans are not appropriate work attire."

"These aren't jeans actually Doc. They're jeggings. You know, a cross between jeans and leggings. Jeggings, get it?"

"I really have no interest in the correct terminology for your inappropriate outfit. If you wish to continue with your employment as my receptionist, I suggest you find some articles of clothing that present a more professional image as befits your role here in my surgery.

"But Doc…" I tried to protest. His suits were so incredibly boring and dull that I felt sure his patients liked to see someone with a more lively and trendy fashion sense to brighten the place up.

"And when you get back to your desk, I want you to put a couple of calls through for me, first to Bill Moore at Truro hospital, and then to Chris Parsons at the PCT. If they are not available in their offices, try their mobile numbers. Got that?"

With that the Doc picked up his cup of coffee and stomped back to his consulting room.

"Tosser," I mumbled to myself.

"I heard that," the Doc shouted back to me.

I sighed as I made my way back to my desk and slumped into the chair.

It was hard to believe that only yesterday it had been the Christmas holidays. But then I perked up as I remembered about the New Year's party Abbey was having that I still had to look forward to.

As I made the first call the Doc had asked for, I was already planning what I was going to wear – something to show off the new stripy tights I'd got for Christmas.

"Bill Moore's secretary for you," I said in my best posh voice as I put the call through. No doubt the Doc was chasing up some results for one of his patients, as he often did.

Then I sat back and sipped my mug of coffee – I had to admit that for all his faults, the Doc made great coffee. And at least I got to sit at a desk instead of being on my feet all day like I'd been at the bakers and the chemists. And to my surprise I actually found it pretty interesting to find out what was wrong with people and how the Doc could treat them.

So maybe tomorrow I would try to find something really boring to wear just to show the Doc I really wanted to keep this job.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.

Happy Ever After – The Real World

Chapter 19

New Year celebrations had always seemed a totally pointless exercise to me, if anything even worse than Christmas. Even though I myself was not a religious man, at least I understood that Christmas was an important event to those who were of a religious persuasion, and it was just a shame that it had become such an over hyped commercialised occasion.

But celebrating the start of a New Year, when really as far as I was concerned it was just a day like any other, seemed a total and utter waste of time to me. So when Louisa had asked if I would like to go with her to the New Year's Eve party that Roger and Maureen Fenn were having at their house, my reply was short and sweet.

"No."

"Oh but Martin, you get on with Roger don't you? Go on, it might be fun, you might actually enjoy yourself. Maureen said we can take James along with us and put him to sleep upstairs in the cot there."

"I hate New Year, I hate parties, I don't like loud music, and I don't drink. So why on earth would I want to go Louisa?"

"To keep me happy?" Louisa had said pleadingly.

"It makes far more sense for you to go and spend the evening with your friends, while I stay at home and look after James Henry. You enjoy all that music and chatting and so forth and you know that I really don't. Roger is probably one of the few villagers to have an IQ above 'moron' level, but that doesn't mean I'd want to spend an entire evening in his company. And the baby would never settle there with all that noise, so I'm perfectly happy to spend a quiet evening here at home minding him and catching up with my paperwork and research," I'd insisted truthfully.

"Oh all right, I knew it was a long shot at best to try to get you to go," Louisa had sighed resignedly. I think we'd both realised that this was one of those occasions that the differences in our personalities was highlighted, and after all it was Louisa who had said that we should each have space to 'do our own thing'. Parties were _not_ my thing and she knew it.

"Good, that's settled then," I'd said, but it did set me thinking of the time I'd forced myself to go to Joe Penhale's birthday party at The Wilson Hotel, when I'd been trying in my clumsy way to try to get closer to Louisa. Of course I'd been lucky to have been able to leave early after she'd had to rush off to move her car, just after she'd asked me to go to that fateful concert with her.

And that outing had started off so well and yet ended up in complete disaster. No I was simply no good at social occasions, so it was best that I allowed Louisa to enjoy a night out with her friends, without the risk of me spoiling things.

**xXx**

So now it was New Year's Eve, and Louisa was getting ready to go out. I watched with some fascination all the preparatiosn she deemed necessary, as I held the baby and did my best to keep him amused and out of her way.

She'd showered and washed her hair, and spent ages drying it and then straightening it with some tortuous looking instrument.

"Does it look alright? Perhaps I should wear it up, but then I always tie it up when I'm looking after the baby because he grabs handfuls of it, or else he throws up in it, so I thought it would make a nice change to wear it down, but now I'm not sure. What do you think Martin?" Louisa fretted as she stood in front of the mirror wearing her dressing gown, as she fussed over her hair, holding it up and playing around with it.

"I'm sure it will look err…nice, however you choose to wear it," I replied noncommittally, uncertain of what I was supposed to say.

"Oh Martin! You're no help whatsoever," Louisa replied rather irritably, as she now turned her attention to the various outfits laid out on our bed. She picked up the red and silver wrap style dress that she'd worn on Christmas Day, and held it up against herself in front of the mirror.

"Hmm, I think maybe this one is a bit too dressy for just a house party," she decided as she tossed that to one side, and then picked up a white lacy top which she now held up with a pair of dark coloured jeans.

"But then jeans look as if I haven't really made any effort at all." That outfit was also tossed to one side, followed in quick succession by the next two possibilities.

"Oh Martin, I haven't got _anything_ to wear," Louisa wailed, as she slumped down on the edge of the bed.

I looked on in puzzlement at this declaration, as the room seemed full of Louisa's clothes as far as I could see, all of which looked perfectly acceptable to me.

"I err… thought you looked…umm…very nice in that dress when you wore it on Christmas Day," I tentatively offered my opinion, indicating the red and silver dress.

"Really? I suppose maybe if I wore it with a cardie and flat shoes then it wouldn't seem too dressy. And it is very comfy. Thank you Martin," Louisa picked up the dress and then leant over to give me a kiss on the cheek. I was just relieved that I seemed to have said the right thing for once.

Next Louisa fussed about picking out the right underwear for the dress, disappearing into the en suite bathroom where I heard her spray something which I assumed to be deodorant, before returning into the bedroom wearing pretty lacy red underwear to match the dress.

"I rather like that outfit," I murmured admiringly, as I stood James Henry on my lap while he played with my shirt collar.

Louisa smiled at me.

"It's not too late for you to change your mind and both come to the party with me you know," she tried one last time.

"No, Louisa, I think it's best we stay at home, don't you agree young man?" I said, as I extracted my rather soggy collar from James' mouth and handed him a plastic toy giraffe to maul instead, hoping that would keep him happy for a couple of minutes.

"Very well, I know when I'm beaten," Louisa sighed, and then reached for a pair of tights. I wrinkled my nose in disgust as I watched her put them on and spoil the effect of her attractive underwear, before slipping the dress on, followed by a red cardigan. Regretfully, it seemed that my show was now over as Louisa disappeared once more into the en suite bathroom.

I followed her and stood in the doorway.

"Now Louisa, I think it best if you avoid too much alcohol, even if you have started weaning the baby."

"Yes, Martin," Louisa sighed, as she pulled a funny face in the mirror as she did something to her eyes.

"And best not to be too late, we've got lunch with Aunt Ruth tomorrow don't forget," I reminded her. This was the lunch postponed from Boxing Day, when the stormy weather had prevented us from attending.

"I haven't forgotten Martin," Louisa replied, as she applied something shiny to her lips, but then blotted most of it off again with a piece of tissue.

"And I've asked Roger to walk you back, I don't like the idea of you coming back by yourself late at night."

"Martin! There really was no need to do that! I'm perfectly capable of making my own way back. For goodness sake, they only live just up the road and this village is perfectly safe."

Louisa stood and glared at me with her hands on her hips.

"Better safe than sorry, and Roger said that he'd been planning to walk you home in any case."

I wasn't going to apologise for ensuring Louisa's safety, however much it offended her feminist streak, and I decided to ignore her obvious ire.

"And we have a busy few days coming up with the move back to your cottage, so you'll need your wits about you. All good reasons not to be suffering from a hangover and lack of sleep," I concluded.

"You can be such an old woman at times Martin," Louisa huffed, as I followed her out of the bathroom, still holding James Henry.

Louisa was bending over and rummaging in the bottom of the wardrobe, and I stood and admired the curve of her lovely bottom, unable to stop myself from thinking about the very nice red lacy underwear that I'd just seen covering those curves.

As Louisa stood up, having successfully retrieved the shoes that she had been searching for and slipped them on, I hastily cleared my throat and marshalled my thoughts to more practical matters as James was getting restless now, he was grizzling and reaching out for his mother.

While I continued to hold him, Louisa gave the baby a quick hug and kissed him, then had to wipe some lipstick off his cheek.

"Be a good boy for Daddy now, won't you James? Martin, I'll have my mobile on in case you need me, and you have the landline number as well," Louisa fussed.

"We'll be just fine. You'd better go or you'll be late," I said rather gruffly.

"Yes, I suppose I had," Louisa replied rather wistfully, as she looked first at the baby, and then at me, before making her way downstairs as I followed her.

She put her coat on and then picked up her handbag, along with the flowers and bottle of wine she was taking with her to give to her hosts.

And then after giving us both a quick peck on the cheek, she was gone, leaving me with James, who now decided that he _really_ wanted his mummy and started bawling loudly.

**xXx**

I'd always enjoyed a good party, and Roger and Maureen were renowned for their New Year's Eve bash. The music was always fantastic of course, and as Maureen was a brilliant cook, the food was excellent too.

And yet…I found that I kept looking at my watch, almost willing the time away so that I could get back home to my two men, one very small, one very big, but both very important to me.

I hadn't ever really expected that Martin would agree to come to the party with me, and I knew full well that even if he had he would most likely have just stood in the corner and glowered at everyone. And he never raised any objection to me going out, he was always more than happy to look after James, just so long as it didn't clash with his medical responsibilities.

Roger and Maureen had moved from the little converted chapel Roger had lived in before the twins had arrived and now lived in one of the more modern and larger semi detached houses on the edge of the village. Their four year old identical twin boys, Ethan and Liam had just started at the reception class at my school, and so we had been trialing a child minding arrangement whereby Maureen collected James Henry from me when she dropped her twins off at school in the morning, and then brought him back to me in the afternoon when she collected them. If I had a spare few moments at lunch time, I could pop up to her house to see him, but I didn't often do this as I'd found that I was always in a rush and it tended to unsettle him.

For the most part this arrangement had worked out very well indeed for both of us. Maureen had taken to motherhood like a duck to water, even if she was an older first time mum – she absolutely loved being at home with her babies, so she'd been very worried about missing them when they started school. Having James to look after had helped soften the blow, and James had settled in very quickly and seemed happy with her.

I'd known from when Maureen had been our School Secretary that she was incredibly organised and efficient, and even Martin had been impressed by the fact that she had produced a spread sheet, indicating well in advance the days that she would not be able to have him, for example on the day that she had to take her elderly mother for her hospital check-up.

Of course I didn't need her to mind James in the school holidays, which suited her perfectly as it left her free to spend the time with her boys. As she was used to dealing with twins, looking after just one baby for a few hours a day seemed a doddle to her, and naturally she already had all the required baby equipment.

Maureen had got herself registered as an official child minder as money was tight for them since she'd given up her job at the school to have the twins, and it seemed an ideal way for her to earn some extra money. Roger did some supply teaching, and had his pension that Martin had helped him to fight for, but no doubt the extra income Maureen was earning from minding James was a very welcome addition for them.

At least Roger had been given the all clear health wise as his cancer had not returned. Roger always said that it was down to Martin spotting his throat cancer so early that had made all the difference to his prognosis, and he was eternally grateful to him.

The only slight issue that had worried me was that I thought Maureen was a bit scared of Martin, and it made her a bit paranoid about looking after James. She reported the slightest sniffle or cough to him, but because Martin was so fiercely protective of his son, he was actually very happy about Maureen's attention to detail, and so it wasn't proving to be a problem

I'd chatted to most of the people at the party, and it was really nice to see everyone, but I found I was disappointed when I looked at my watch to see that it was still only 10:30pm – crikey, another hour and a half to go before we would be seeing the New Year in. I checked my mobile, almost wishing that there was a text or a missed call from Martin that would give me an excuse to leave and head off back home.

Roger came over and chatted to me.

"So, how's it going with Martin then? I gather he is discovering for himself the revelation that is fatherhood?"

"If you mean that Martin is proving to be a surprisingly good father, then I can assure you Roger, no one is more surprised than me."

"Ah, despite the 'miserable bugger' image he likes to portray to the world, I always suspected that he had it in him Louisa. He just needed a guiding hand, which you have no doubt provided. So all is hunky dory between you two then?" Roger asked me in his husky voice, as he raised his eyebrows at me enquiringly.

"Well, yes, I suppose you could say we're working on it, getting there, you know?" I said as I sipped my glass of wine.

"Good, glad to hear it. So…uhm…are you likely to be needing my services again anytime soon as the stand in 'Father of the Bride'?"

"God Roger, not you as well!" I couldn't help groaning at him.

"What? Surely marriage must be on the cards now that you are living together with a baby?" he probed kindly.

"Why? What is the big deal about getting married?" I protested, and Roger jumped to the wrong conclusion

"Oh, Martin not very keen then?"

"Oh no, quite the opposite, I can assure you," I replied with some feeling as I took another large gulp of wine.

"So he's proposed, and you've turned him down, is that it then?" Roger asked, clearly surprised.

"I haven't exactly turned him down, I've said I'll think about it," I explained rather evasively.

"I see. So then it's you who has cold feet about getting hitched. Can I ask why?"

"I just don't see the point, that's all. Things are fine as they are, what difference would it make?"

"Being married has made a world of difference for Maureen and me, I can tell you that Louisa."

"But as I recall you were married before and it didn't work out," I gently chided him.

"I admit that I was a bloody fool back then. You have to work at marriage, and I neglected my first wife Helen dreadfully. I shan't make the same mistake again. I'm so thankful that Maureen agreed to marry me."

"Why? It's just a piece of paper when all is said and done."

"Louisa, Louisa, it is so much more than that! To know that the person you love is prepared to stand up and tell the world that they intend to be with you for the rest of their life is the most amazing feeling. OK, there are no guarantees in life, but it means everything to me that Maureen was prepared to make that kind of commitment. Just living together kind of implies that either one of you can walk out any time they like if the going gets tough. And I think it speaks volumes for the kind of man Martin is that he wants to make that commitment to you, even though we both know how much he hates any kind of public airing of his personal feelings."

"I suppose, when you put it like that," I agreed, not really having thought of it like that before.

"For all his funny ways, Martin is actually a very decent bloke Louisa. It must have taken a lot of courage for him to ask you to marry him again after last time, so maybe you should value and appreciate what he's offering you, rather than throwing it back in his face. There, lecture from your stand in father over, so please feel free to re-join the party," Roger smiled at me, as he offered to top up my wine glass.

"No thanks Roger. Actually, would you mind if I headed off now, can you make my apologies to Maureen?" I said, suddenly _really_ needing to be somewhere else.

"Of course, no problem, I'll just get our coats and walk you back," he replied.

"Oh there's no need for that, I can walk back by myself," I assured him.

"Martin will have my guts for garters if I don't walk you back. And that wouldn't be a pretty sight, so please, just let me walk with you hmm? I could do with some fresh air anyway."

And so we set off homewards, but we hadn't got very far when we spotted Martin walking towards us, pushing the buggy.

"James Henry just wouldn't settle, and as the weather is very mild tonight, I thought I might as well bring him out for a walk and join you at the party to see the New Year in," Martin explained, as he looked down and gave me a little hesitant smile.

"Oh, right, well actually I was just heading back home so that we could see the New Year in together," I replied, as I looked up at Martin and smiled back at him.

"Well I'll leave you two to it," Roger said, as he looked at us staring at each other, shaking his head and grinning to himself like a Cheshire cat as he turned and walked back.

"Yes, err…thanks Roger," we both called after him.

I linked my arm through Martin's as we walked back, him still pushing the buggy.

"Little bugger's gone off now, he's been a right little sod this evening," Martin declared, but not unkindly.

"Missed his mummy eh? Did you miss me too Martin?" I enquired as I snuggled into his arm.

"Hmm. Party not much good then?" Martin replied gruffly.

"It was a pretty good party actually. But you know, there was just something, or rather someone, missing," I teased, as I pulled his arm to stop him so that I could reach up and give him a kiss on his cheek.

"Right. I see," Martin was clearly rather embarrassed by my public show of affection, but I didn't care, and I reached up to give him another kiss, this time on the lips. Of course as I did so, the bevy of teenage girls came out of the house we were standing in front of, and so there followed a chorus of wolf whistles and various comments along the lines of 'get a room', 'shaggers', 'use a condom this time'.

We broke apart and I started giggling, but Martin was clearly highly embarrassed.

"Really Louisa…" he started to protest.

"Oh come on Martin, what does it matter? It's no secret we're together is it?"

Martin grunted his usual grunt at me and then started pushing the buggy up the hill to the house again, but he did put his free arm around my waist this time, without me prompting him.

After we'd carefully lifted our sleeping son into his cot when we got back, we celebrated the New Year with our own very private celebration in our bedroom, and I have to say that the fireworks that were going off in the village were nothing compared to the fireworks that we created between us.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.

Happy Ever After – The Real World

Chapter 20

Fingers crossed, the meal that I had prepared this New Year's Day for my nephew and his partner would pass muster. Traditional roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, carrots, and cauliflower, served with gravy and very hot horseradish relish. Used to just catering for myself, I wasn't a fancy cook at the best of times, and it had taken me a while to master Joan's temperamental old cooker.

I'd actually been quite relieved to be let off the catering hook on Boxing Day when I'd had to ring Martin to cancel our meal due to the terrible storms, and I'd actually had a lovely day all by myself writing up my latest research on schizophrenia to send off to Imperial College in London.

For today, I'd bought the piece of beef from a local farm shop, as well as an apple pie for pudding made by the farmer's wife - I knew my limits, and making pastry was a skill I had never acquired, unlike my older sister. At least I had plenty of eggs from my girls to make the batter for the Yorkshire puddings, and I just hoped it was going to play the game and rise in the way that it was supposed to.

When I'd moved in to the farm, I'd cleared out the kitchen as best I could, but really it needed completely gutting and re-doing from scratch. As did the bathrooms, the bedrooms, well _everything_ in fact. I also suspected the roof really ought to be retiled, and Al had already said that the plumbing and wiring were shot and needed replacing.

Could I really face taking this place on permanently? And if I did, and spent what would probably be virtually all of my savings put by for my retirement on this refurbishment project, what would then be the point of me rattling around in a great big four bedroom detached farmhouse in Cornwall all by myself?

And then there was all the land and animals. Al had been a god send, but I couldn't imagine him being happy to do it for ever as I couldn't afford to pay him a proper full time rate. So should I see if the neighbouring farmer wanted to rent the land, or maybe even consider selling part of it off?

At times I cursed Joan for putting me in this position, because I had been quite happy in my well-ordered life before this bombshell had dropped.

I loved my work at Broadmoor, and actually revelled in the fact that people were usually horrified by it, especially when they saw the ugly and imposing old building which looked more like a prison than the high security hospital it really was; or if they heard about the warning siren, the purpose of it being to warn the local populace should a dangerous inmate ever manage to escape- luckily that hadn't been necessary since 1993.

But to me, it was fascinating to get inside the heads of the patients, to find out what had gone so wrong to make them carry out the hideous crimes that they had – in my experience, in many cases it could be traced back to childhood issues of parental cruelty, ill treatment and neglect. Many times, while idly sitting in the traffic on my drive out to Broadmoor from my flat in West London, I'd day dream about writing a book about some of the more interesting cases I'd worked on, and my recent months in Cornwall should have presented me with the perfect opportunity. But although I'd tried, it just wouldn't come, it wouldn't flow, and I couldn't help but feel that it was because I wasn't ready yet, my work wasn't finished as there were still so many interesting cases out there for me to work on.

As far as my nephew was concerned, I'd tried my best to give him advice to steer him in the right direction with regard to his unfortunate situation with the school teacher, but he'd largely ignored everything I'd said and carried on in his own stubborn manner. A typical Ellingham I suppose, and only to be expected.

I was now prepared to concede that my first impression of the mother of his child may have been somewhat incorrect. Initially, I had assessed that although she was undoubtedly a very attractive woman, she was of limited intelligence and experience, and that Martin had foolishly conceived a child with her after finally allowing some of his natural male urges to surface after repressing them for so many years while concentrating on his high flying surgical career.

Of course it had been the constant high pressure and stress of that lifestyle that had inevitably led to him having a breakdown of sorts and developing his dreadful incapacitating haemophobia. That he had worked so hard and managed to overcome this phobia was impressive and I was very proud of him for achieving this feat.

I hadn't really paid much attention in the past when Joan had tried to tell me all about Marty and this schoolteacher, but I'd gathered that she'd liked this Louisa, and was upset that in her opinion Marty wasn't pulling his weight in supporting her with regard to the baby. Now that I was more closely involved, I could see that rather like an onion, there were many layers to this unhappy situation. My initial assessment of the couple had been that they had nothing whatsoever in common apart from their child, and therefore the logical conclusion had to be that staying together purely for his sake would clearly be a recipe for disaster. I had felt it was definitely for the best when they had decided to split and go their separate ways – Martin to London, while Louisa would remain in the village with the child.

But of course, following the crisis brought about by the psychotic chemist, they had now reconciled. I still believed that it had been a lucky fluke that in Martin ignoring my advice and instead following Louisa's directions in handling the poor woman's deluded episode, their child had not been hurled out of the window in her desperation to respond to Martin's foolish faux declaration of love to her. But as we only dealt with male inmates at Broadmoor, possibly that was a factor in explaining why Louisa's advice was successful in dealing with a female psychotic patient when it went against all my professional experience.

In spending more time with the pair of them lately, it was obvious that there was a very strong sexual attraction between them, which Martin was highly embarrassed about when I made this observation to him. Silly man, surely he knew that it was simply basic human nature, the ever present and overwhelming need to reproduce that drives a huge part of human behaviour?

Still, I had to admit that I'd made a fool of myself a few times when I was much younger and inexperienced in the ways of the world, reading all sorts of sexual contexts into friendships, thinking things were developing in a way that they weren't – 'quasi sexual relationships' was how I'd described things when I'd first met Louisa at the funeral, one of my 'oversharing' instances I'm afraid, and she had looked at me rather oddly as she'd sat there in the church nursing the baby.

I still had my misgivings about how compatible Martin and Louisa really were, but I was beginning to realise that there was a whole lot more to Louisa than I had first thought. If she could beat me at scrabble so easily, she was clearly at least reasonably intelligent. She was also quite feisty and opinionated, and not afraid to speak her mind, which I respected even if I didn't agree with her socialist views on education.

And to my surprise I'd discovered that she was just as keen as I was to see Martin get back into surgery, when I'd previously assumed that she was clinging on to him and holding him back. So now I found her rather intriguing, and maybe, just _maybe_, she could be just what Martin needed. I was really rather looking forward to getting to know her a bit better over lunch today.

**xXx**

"Oh, so your father is in prison then?" I asked, my interest piqued by this information, as we sat round the table to eat our lunch. I was certain Joan had never mentioned this to me as I was sure I would have remembered.

"Yes, that's right," Louisa answered, as she held her head up high to look me straight in the eye defiantly, her knife and fork poised over her food, the baby sat in his little chair next to her, swathed in a huge bib in preparation for his lunch.

"How fascinating! What's he in for? And which prison?" I asked with great interest, as I sliced into the piece of beef on my plate. I was quite pleased with how the meal had turned out, I think Joan would have been really rather proud of me. Even if the Yorkshire pudding had collapsed in the middle, it tasted just fine.

"I'm afraid he's just a petty criminal Aunt Ruth, not in your professional league," Martin said as he fiddled with his glass of water, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation.

"Oh I don't know Martin, I find all criminal behaviour of great interest actually. Perhaps I could come with you next time you visit him Louisa, for research purposes," I suggested eagerly.

"Louisa doesn't have anything to do with her father, he's a liar and a thief, and completely unreliable," Martin stated firmly, but I caught the shifty look on Louisa's face as she looked away – a classic example of avoidance if ever I saw one, suggesting that Martin's assertion might not quite be true even if he believed it to be so. I decided to let the matter drop for now, but I would definitely be delving further into this intriguing subject at some point.

From the sound of things, it would seem that Martin wasn't the only one to have experienced a less than ideal upbringing, and I found it fascinating that despite this, they had both developed strong personalities, and both had been determined to get on and succeed in their chosen careers rather than just sit back and feel sorry for themselves as victims. However there could be no doubt that they both also carried the resultant inevitable baggage. Hence the many layers that needed to be peeled back.

"You might be interested to know that I've advised Truro that I am prepared to take on the consultant surgeon's role for three days a week," Martin calmly let drop next, with just the slightest hint of pride detectable in his voice.

"Really! Well I must say I'm absolutely delighted. When will you start?"

"Not sure yet, lots of things to be sorted before it can go ahead, most of which revolves around me sorting out a suitable partner for my practice here in the village. I'm not prepared to leave it in the hands of an incompetent buffoon of the sort that they unbelievably thought was a suitable replacement for me before. Can't think what planet Chris Parsons must have been on to have employed that Doctor Dibbs."

"I suppose you can't necessarily expect too many doctors of your calibre to want to practice in such a small and remote village. After all, you only came here because of your little 'problem'," I pointed out.

"Even so, surely it's not too much to ask for someone who has at least acquired the most basic level of competence," Martin replied acidly.

"What did Chris Parsons say when you spoke to him Martin, you never really told me the details," Louisa enquired, looking up from where she was trying to feed the baby some mashed potato, in between taking mouthfuls of her own lunch. The child seemed to spit out as much as he actually took in, but he seemed happy enough as he looked round at everything and made baby type noises.

"Not much to say. He'll advertise the post and we'll take it from there when we see who has applied. As it's just a part time post, he is of the opinion that it will most likely appeal either to someone retired or semi-retired, or else a working mother looking for something to fit around family commitments."

Martin now frowned and curled his lip in disgust as he noticed the little dog Buddy sitting very quietly underneath the table hopefully waiting for some bits of food to fall to the floor. I think Buddy thought the baby was the most likely source as he eyed him up and wagged his tail hopefully.

"Get that filthy animal out of here! I don't want him anywhere near James Henry. Really aunt, I'm surprised at you!" Martin bellowed as he leapt up and tried to push the animal away with his foot. Buddy was no fool, and quickly hot pawed it out of the room, but I knew he was just lurking on the other side of the door, waiting to sneak back in unnoticed first chance he got. I didn't say anything as I'd actually grown rather fond of him and found him quite good company at times.

Martin sat back down and took a mouthful of food, but it included a good dollop of the extra hot horseradish relish, and he ended up coughing and spluttering with tears streaming down his face as he took some gulps of water to calm his mouth down.

Louisa looked over at me as we both stifled our laughter at his discomfort, and both saw Buddy sneak back under the table unnoticed by Martin, neither of us giving the game away.

"So, when do you go back to work, when does the school term resume?" I asked Louisa, in an effort to try to get to know her better.

"On the fourth of January, so I've got just a few more days off, but we're moving back into my cottage before then, so that's going to keep us busy, as well as all the inevitable prep and organisation I have to do for the new term," Louisa explained.

"Of course, I haven't seen inside this little cottage of yours yet, but Martin has pointed out to me which one it is," I said.

From the outside it had looked tiny to me, but maybe it was one of those places that was 'deceptively spacious' inside, as the estate agents termed it.

"Then you will have to pop round once we've settled in, and I'll give you the full tour," Louisa offered as she smiled back at me.

"That won't take very long," Martin muttered, and Louisa looked daggers over at him.

"It has everything we need, and a lot more privacy than your place where the whole village is free to roam around downstairs," Louisa told him.

"I think that is somewhat of an exaggeration Louisa, my patients only have access to the waiting room and my consulting room," Martin protested.

"Yes, but as the staircase comes down into your waiting room, I have no option but to pass through the waiting hoards every time do I?" Louisa retorted.

"Now, now boys and girls, no arguing," I scolded. "So who's ready for some apple pie and cream? No custard I'm afraid, it went all lumpy when I tried to make it and I've not the slightest idea why. Always looked so easy when Joan did it. Oh but the pie is alright because I didn't make that, I bought it."

"Louisa and I don't eat desserts of that kind, especially not with cream Aunt Ruth. Surely you are aware that pastry has a very high fat content of the worst kind, so you shouldn't have any either. I'll give James Henry his bottle now, if you'd pass it to me Louisa."

"Actually Ruth, I'd _love_ a piece of apple pie and don't stint on the cream," Louisa contradicted Martin. She produced the baby's bottle from the large bag with little blue teddy bears printed all over it that she'd brought with her, and then handed it over to him with a challenging glint in her eye. I found I really rather liked the fact that she stood her ground, and wasn't going to be cowed or dictated to by him, and Louisa rose another notch in my estimation.

Martin tutted disapprovingly, but then disappeared into the lounge to settle with the baby in a more comfortable arm chair as he gave him his bottle, looking very practised and at ease with his son in a way I simply wouldn't have believed possible just a short while ago. I just wished Joan was here to see this for herself, she would have been so happy and proud to see Martin being the father she'd wanted him to be.

"Jolly good news about Martin taking up surgery again I must say," I said to Louisa as we remained sat at the table in the kitchen.

"Yes, I'm really happy for him," she agreed.

"So, how will you manage all by yourself when Martin is away in Truro?" I enquired.

"I will manage just _fine_ Ruth. After all, that was my original plan you know, and I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself and James without a man," she insisted with some feeling.

"Yes, I'm sure that you are," I said slowly, realising that this was probably very true. "And you've sorted your child care arrangements satisfactorily now I understand?"

"Yes, we have a very good child minder, even Martin likes Maureen Fenn, don't you?" Louisa called over to him.

"What? Oh, I suppose she is reasonably adequate, even if she isn't his mother, who is naturally the best person to look after him," Martin frowned as he put a cloth over his shoulder and then placed the baby there and patted his back expertly.

Louisa rolled her eyes at me.

"He just doesn't understand that I love my job, and that it's perfectly possible to be a working mother these days. Has he always been such an old dinosaur?" she queried, but as she was smiling, I decided that this was probably just good natured banter between them - at least I hoped that was the correct interpretation.

"Well this old dinosaur is about to change his son's nappy Louisa, so can you pass over the bag please?" Martin asked, as he looked down at the baby who was smiling and laughing up at him. Martin's face had such a different expression when dealing with his baby – it was much softer and made him look years younger somehow, and the only other times I'd seen him like that was when he looked at Louisa and thought that no one else was looking.

Louisa took the bag over to him, and as she passed it to him, she leant over and kissed his cheek, and then the baby's.

Much to my surprise I found myself thinking what a sweet little family they made, and I also found myself suddenly really wanting them to make a go of things. Then I pulled myself together - I must be getting soppy in my old age, or else it was the effect of this bloody Cornish village, because I seemed to be losing my sense and logic.

But that night as I lay in bed mulling over the pleasant day we had spent together - even if Louisa had beaten me at scrabble again - the image of Martin's happy and contented expression wouldn't go away, mainly I suspected, because I couldn't ever remember seeing him looking that way before in all the preceding years.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.

Happy Ever After – The Real World

Chapter 21

The three of us – myself, Martin and Maureen - were sat around the kitchen table one evening before the beginning of the new term, complete with our diaries, spread sheets, lap tops with on line diaries and everything else required for us to coordinate James' care for the forthcoming term.

"I've marked on the spread sheet the days this term that I won't be available to mind James," Maureen kicked off. "The first one is because I have my mother's hospital appointment and then …"

"It is sufficient that you inform us of these dates well in advance, I do not need to know why you are unavailable," Martin interrupted her, as he took note of the dates with a frown.

"Martin! Don't be so rude," I admonished him. He really could be so abrupt with people, and it was little wonder that Maureen had never felt comfortable with him. I smiled over at her by way of apology.

"What? I'm merely saving us all the time and effort involved in providing unnecessary information," Martin replied as he looked up. I sighed as I realised that he didn't upset people on purpose, he was just focusing on the task in hand and saw no need for social niceties.

"These are the dates that I have staff meetings, so I will need one of you to mind James after school," I said, handing out a list of dates.

Martin scowled as he took the list from me, studied it and then marked the dates down.

"I will make arrangements to enable me to be available to mind James for the dates prior to half term. After that, I feel it would be prudent for you to make other suitable arrangements for his care," he pronounced, as he gave me a meaningful look with raised eyebrows. We had agreed that we would not tell anyone yet of his plans to take on a partner for when he took up the Truro post, not until all the dates and details had been finalised.

"I can have James for the other dates of your staff meetings. You can come and collect him from my house when you're finished," Maureen suggested helpfully.

"So, are we done?" Martin said, as he stood up and gathered all his things together, clearly impatient to go.

"Yes, Martin, we're done. I was just going to put the kettle on if would you like…"

But I was already talking to his back as he disappeared in the direction of his consulting room, no doubt to complete some of his fascinating medical reading and research.

"…a cup of tea?" I finished, as we heard his door being closed firmly. "I'll take that as a 'no' then shall I? Maureen?"

"I'd love a cuppa thanks," she replied as I put the kettle on. "Never was one for small talk was he?"

"No, but you do know it's nothing personal don't you? He's the same with everyone, no matter how I try to get him to be more sociable, it's just the way he is," I explained apologetically.

"Oh don't worry, I'm getting used to him. I think maybe we can forgive him some of his funny ways because he is such a very good doctor after all. And I'm very impressed with how much he's involved with little James, I'd not expected that if I'm honest Louisa."

"No, I know, it's taken me by surprise too," I confessed, and I found myself smiling.

"So, things are working out well for you both then?" Maureen probed, as she saw the gooey look on my face as I thought about Martin being so gentle as he handled his tiny son with his great big hands.

"Yes, I suppose they are," I agreed.

"And yet Roger warned me not to mention the 'M' word to you because apparently you bit his head off the other evening when he dared to broach the subject," she said with what I supposed was a concerned look on her face, as I handed her a mug of steaming tea and sat down at the table with her again.

"Let's not go there hmm?" I suggested warily.

"But why Louisa? I can honestly say that getting married to Roger is the best thing I've ever done. It seems such a shame to me that for some reason you have a mental block about getting married, thinking it's a bad thing. Is it because of last time, you know, when you called it off?"

"Partly yes, I suppose it is. We rushed into things, and I just don't want to make the same mistake again, that's all."

"But you're living together with your baby now, so surely it's different?"

"I think we're fine just as we are, so I don't really see the need to go through the whole palaver of getting married. What difference does having a ring and all that stuff make anyway?"

"I think it makes a huge difference actually Louisa. Sometimes I look down at my wedding ring, and I remember what we said to each other when we made our vows. It makes me well up, even now, because it was so special. And do you know, Roger told me that the three diamonds in the engagement ring he gave me signify the words 'I love you'."

Maureen was twiddling her rings round on her finger as she told me this, smiling happily, and I had to admit that she and Roger did seem very happily married.

"Oh Maureen, I never knew Roger was such a romantic! That is sweet, I must say," I said, certainly never having seen that side to the bitter and rude man that Roger had been when I'd first crossed paths with him.

We both looked up as Martin came back into the kitchen, and muttered something about getting himself a cup of coffee. Once he'd helped himself from the coffee machine, he quickly disappeared again.

"Anyway, enough of all this talk. So, are Liam and Ethan looking forward to getting back to school in the new term?" I asked as I steered the subject away from the topic of weddings. Sometimes Martin wasn't the only one who preferred not to discuss their private life with other people.

**xXx**

On my way to get myself a cup of coffee from the kitchen, I'd overheard Maureen telling Louisa about what the three diamonds in her engagement ring signified.

"_I love you."_

I could actually say those words out loud to Louisa now, in private anyway. I told her of these feelings when we made love, because at that moment there were no barriers, no inhibitions between us.

I knew Louisa wished that I could be more demonstrative in public, but I simply couldn't. However, I would have been more than happy to have been allowed to present her with an engagement ring as an outward token of my love, but she'd declined my offer. Perhaps in time, if I was patient she would agree, because after all she had promised that we could maybe think about setting a date to get married later in the year, and I was planning to hold her to this promise.

**xXx**

I was horrified to discover Louisa sitting on the edge of the bed crying as she held James Henry, in the main bedroom of White Rose Cottage.

I'd taken the morning off so that we could move everything over to her cottage, and had then left her to it to sort out where she wanted it all to go, as I had to return for the afternoon session at my surgery.

"What on earth is the matter?" I asked in dismay, as I sat down next to her on the edge of the new mattress that had been delivered that morning. I had not been prepared to sleep on an old mattress that had had a serious of tenants culminating in Mr Strain sleeping on it, so I'd insisted on ordering a brand new one, along with some new pillows too.

"It won't all fit. The cottage has shrunk, there just isn't enough room for everything," she sobbed. James was also crying, clearly unsettled by his mother's distress, so I took him from her to try and calm him down, as I also tried to console her by putting my arm around her shoulder.

"I thought moving back to my cottage was going to be really great, and I wanted to have everything perfect by the time you got back, but instead it's all just one big mess!"

"I don't think getting so emotional is very constructive Louisa," I pointed out, as they both continued to cry.

I tried to assess if Louisa was unwell – she seemed rather flushed and warm, but I couldn't manage to take her pulse while I was holding James.

"Oh for God's sake Martin! Don't you think I know that, but I just can't help it, and if that's the best you can come up by way of assistance you might as well just sod off back to your place. And stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like…like a doctor, trying to work out why his patient is acting like a lunatic!"

With that she jumped up and made her way out of the room and I heard her footsteps disappearing downstairs.

I looked at poor little James Henry's bewildered face and then cuddled him up to me.

"No James, I don't understand what's going on with your mother either," I confessed as I held his soft head up against my cheek, which we both seemed to find calming.

**xXx**

The tiny second bedroom in Louisa's cottage was really not much larger than a cupboard, not helped by the fact that it had a sloping ceiling, and I could see that it was a tight fit to get James' cot and the chest of drawers that doubled up as his changing unit in there. However, I realised that with a slight rearrangement, better use could be made of the space, and so although I was somewhat handicapped by carrying James round, I quickly adjusted the layout.

"There, that's better," I muttered as I looked around. There was a small but useful cupboard that went under the eaves, and as I looked inside, I worked out that with the addition of a hanging rail and some shelves, it would provide adequate storage for most of James' clothes.

Back in the main bedroom, I could see that the big double wardrobe was already completely full, even though my suits and shirts had yet to be hung in there.

For now, the problem could be solved by using a portable hanging rail out on the landing which would suffice for my suits and shirts rather than trying to cram them all in the wardrobe. I looked up at the hatch in the ceiling that gave access to the attic, and wondered if that might provide a solution if the area was boarded, insulated and some hanging rails fitted. Then out of season clothes could be stored up there.

I wandered into the bathroom, which was not too bad a size really, but I recalled from when I had first made use of it all that time ago, that the over bath shower wasn't very powerful. I did like a decent shower, so I made a mental note to have a word with Al to see if he could maybe install a new power shower. He would undoubtedly be a better choice of plumber than his father, and Louisa had told me that he had done a reasonable job when he'd done some jobs at Mr Routledges' cottage for her.

I decided it was time to go and find Louisa, hoping that she had maybe calmed down by now, and anyway it was probably time for a bottle for the baby, although he seemed content enough with me carrying him around for now.

I found Louisa sitting at the table in the living area, sipping a mug of tea and eating a chocolate digestive biscuit. As there were crumbs and a half empty packet on the table in front of her, I guessed that she had probably already consumed several biscuits, and I frowned in disapproval at so many empty calories.

"Don't start Martin," she warned me as she saw me looking. "Sometimes a choccie bic is the only thing that hits the spot."

With great restraint I refrained from commenting, relieved that at least Louisa appeared to have stopped crying, and busied myself in finding the baby's bottle in the fridge and putting it in the bottle warmer, trying to ignore the uneasy silence that was hanging between us. In any case, I didn't have the foggiest idea of what I should say, so I felt it best to simply keep my mouth shut.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I don't know why I got so upset, it's so silly," Louisa finally said, looking over at me with a rather wan smile.

I settled myself in the chair next to her with James to give him his bottle, which he enthusiastically started gulping down. Once he was sorted, I'd see what we could have for our meal as it didn't seem that Louisa had started preparing anything.

"Surely as you previously lived here for some years you were aware of the dimensions of this cottage? It shouldn't have come as any surprise to you that it was going to be a tight squeeze to fit everything in," I pointed out calmly.

"I know, I know, but maybe I didn't realise quite how much 'stuff' there would be with the three of us, especially with all the baby equipment."

As I'd already tripped over the buggy on my way in where it was parked in the small entrance hall, and I'd had to squeeze passed the baby's chair to be able to sit at the table, I couldn't disagree.

"Well, I'm wondering if we can perhaps adapt the attic to provide some additional storage for items that are not required every day," I suggested. "And maybe it's time for a bit of a clear out of some of your clothes as you do seem to have rather a lot. Do you really wear them all?"

"Actually I've already had a clear out, I gave three big bags to the charity shop just the other day," Louisa informed me. "But yes, maybe I could put some things up in the roof, that's a good idea Martin."

"Uhm…" I didn't quite know how to broach what I wanted to ask next.

"What?"

"Well, you seem…you did rather overreact earlier, and I'm just wondering if you are experiencing some sort of hormonal imbalance. I've actually been concerned for a while now, and so I'd like to organise some blood tests for you."

"What do you mean, '_you've been concerned for a while'_? Are you saying that you think I'm nutty or something?" Louisa demanded to know, clearly not liking the implication.

"No, no, I'd just like to rule a couple of things out, that's all. It's not that uncommon for the complicated interaction of female hormones to become unbalanced following pregnancy and lactation. I really think it would be best not to let things get out too far out of control, otherwise you could end up suffering from post natal depression," I explained.

I'd always found the cycle of female hormones absolutely fascinating, and was actually very interested to find out if Louisa's levels were within the normal expected ranges, as she seemed to me to experience an awful lot of mood swings which I struggled to keep up with. But over the years that I had been a GP, many of my male patients had complained that they didn't understand the moods of their wives or female partners, so maybe it was just par for the course.

"I think you're the one overreacting here Martin. I don't need any tests, I just got a bit tired, that's all. I'm fine now, and I'm sorry if I was a bit short with you earlier."

"Hmm. I still think it would be wise to run a few checks, especially if you say that you're feeling tired. " I persisted.

"Don't worry so much. I'm fine. So, how about I change this young man's nappy now that he's had his bottle?" she suggested as she took James Henry from me. He gave his mother a big smile, clearly much happier now that she wasn't crying – as was I.

However, it turned out that the explanation for Louisa's rather odd behaviour today had a simple and logical explanation. Mood swings, bursting into tears, snapping my head off, along with craving chocolate and carbohydrates were classic premenstrual symptoms. I was annoyed with myself that I hadn't worked out sooner that Louisa weaning the baby had affected her hormone levels enough to allow her menstrual cycle to recommence. As I made a note of the expected date for next month, I realised that I would have to read up and research the subject more thoroughly to enable me to be better prepared in future. Women were such complicated yet fascinating creations, subject as they were to such extreme hormonal influences, all with the inevitable goal of procreation, which we then spent most of our time trying to prevent.

If I had believed in God, I would think he spent a lot of time looking down and laughing at our pathetic attempts to thwart Mother Nature.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.

Happy Ever After – The Real World

Chapter 22

Having got James settled for the evening, and with Martin sat at the table with his laptop catching up with his research and paperwork, I ran myself a nice deep hot bath with lots of bubbles to relax and unwind after what had been a rather stressful day at school. It seemed that the Dare Club was still going strong, despite my best attempts to put a stop to it. I'd caught Tom Kempston and Dan Mossop trying to climb up onto the roof of Mr Coley's shed, and managed to wheedle it out of them that they had been dared to do it by other members of the club to try and frighten Mr Coley. I hadn't told Martin about this latest incident as he already seemed to think that I ran a school that was severely lacking in discipline, however much I told him that kids will be kids. I also knew from my own experience of teaching at Holly's private school, that children from privileged backgrounds could be just as badly behaved, if not more so, than my village pupils.

However I was well aware that I couldn't let this behaviour continue, as it would only be a matter of time before one of the children ended up badly hurt or injured if I let this spiral out of control, and as I lay in the bath, I was weighing up the various options open to me to deal with the problem. Having already read the riot act to the children, calling in the parents was going to have to be the next step. However, I was interrupted from my deliberations by a knock on the bathroom door.

"Are you going to be long? It's getting quite late and I need to take a shower, get ready for bed and so forth," Martin said, as he popped his head round the door.

Of course my cottage only had the one bathroom, with the shower over the bath, as well as no separate loo, which had inevitably caused a few problems.

Even though it was a bit bigger, I didn't regret moving out of Martin's place, because I'd hated the lack of privacy from having patients milling around downstairs, but there was no doubt that we were struggling to manage in my little cottage. Martin was such a big man, and he was still getting used to where the low beams in my place were, and so had banged his head a few times, causing him to swear profusely.

Martin's cottage was detached, whereas mine was a middle terrace, so just as we could hear our neighbours through the walls, we were very conscious that equally they would be able to hear us - especially in the bedroom - so we'd actually felt a bit inhibited since moving back into White Rose Cottage.

There was no parking space for Martin's car, so he had to leave it parked up by his surgery, and run up there to get it if he was called out – not ideal at all.

There was no room in my kitchen for a tumble drier, and with all the washing a baby created, and no opportunity in winter to hang anything outside to dry, I either had to have washing draped everywhere, or hoick it all up to Martin's place that did have a drier.

Martin still had quite a lot of his things up at his place as there just wasn't room in mine for everything, but if the partner that he took on wanted to use the living accommodation, he would have no option but to move the rest of his stuff out.

I tried to convince myself that our cramped living space situation would ease a bit when he was staying over at Truro for a couple of nights a week, but I don't think I really convinced myself of that.

I was also aware that as James Henry grew, he would need more space than he had now in his cramped little room that had nowhere for a desk to do homework and studying. He was already able to roll himself over, and it wouldn't be all that long before he started crawling around the cottage, which wasn't really an ideal layout for an active baby. And then when he was a bit older, a proper garden for him to play in would be lovely.

Ruth had called round for a 'grand tour' and in her usual forthright manner had proclaimed,

"If you two are to stand any kind of a realistic chance of making a go of things, this little dolls house will never do. You must be tripping over each other all the time, especially with the baby too. You need a proper family house."

To his credit, Martin cut her short and told her that we were managing just fine, but I was worried that we were getting rather irritable with each other – as now, when I snapped at Martin,

"Why didn't you have your shower before I ran my bath?"

"I was busy, and anyway, why do you need to spend so long in the bath? It really isn't good for your skin you know, and a shower is also more hygienic."

"I like having a bath. But never mind, I'm getting out now," I sighed as I let the water out, wrapped myself in a big towel, and then left Martin to it in the bathroom, hoping there would still be enough hot water from the rather small water tank after I'd had such a deep bath.

I went into the bedroom, put my pyjamas on and got into bed. I'd made it up this time with my favourite red bedding set, and it brought back memories of the very first time that Martin and I had slept together, here in this room, with this bedding. Naturally we'd been rather awkward with each other as we'd tentatively made love for the first time, unsure of how to 'be' with each other, silly things like which side of the bed to sleep on, how to act in the morning, that kind of thing. We'd undoubtedly come a long way since then, however I realised that we couldn't go on as we were long term, living in such cramped conditions, but I just couldn't face the thought of the upheaval of finding somewhere else to live – again.

When Martin joined me in bed, he cleared his throat and obviously wanted to say something.

"Look, once everything is in place with my new working arrangements, maybe Ruth has a point, perhaps we should think about looking for a bigger place. It could still be here in the village, or just outside. I was thinking you're going to need your own car anyway when I'm away, so maybe you would consider moving slightly further afield to be able to obtain a suitable property," he suggested.

"Maybe. But bigger houses round here don't come up very often and certainly don't come cheap you know, it would be very pricey," I warned him.

"I…that is…we could afford it. I have a reasonable enough income which will increase when I take up my new post, and I have some savings set aside that could be invested in a suitable property."

"Yes, but it'd be a huge commitment to take on. I'm not sure, it seems such a big step."

Truthfully it really rather scared me and made me feel very guilty, the thought of Martin putting large sums of money into something on my account.

"Well property is usually a very sound investment, and one I'd gladly be prepared to make, for you and James Henry, my _family_, if you'd agree to let me," Martin said very quietly, as he took my hand in his.

"I'll give it some thought," I promised.

"And don't forget what else you promised to think about," he gently reminded me. "I'd really like for us to sort out… to know when we can set a date, for…well you know what I'm talking about Louisa. All I want is for us to bring up our son in the kind of home and lifestyle that I think he deserves and that I…we can provide for him. Surely that's what you want for him too?

"Yes, of course I do. As you say, once you're settled in to your new job, we'll take it from there hmm?"

I squeezed Martin's hand back and reached over to kiss his cheek, which led to more kissing… but the moment was ruined when we heard the muffled voice of our neighbour Jack Meadows through the wall shouting at his wife, something like '_get your sexy backside over here', _and her laughing as their bed creaked loudly.

Martin was right. We would definitely have to think about moving before too long.

**xXx**

We were actually going out together this Saturday evening for a social occasion, and I was really quite excited about this rare occurrence. Maureen had happily agreed to babysit James for us, claiming that she would love a quiet evening away from her rowdy lot.

Martin wanted to review with Chris Parsons the candidates that had applied for the vacancy as his partner so that they could decide who was suitable to call for the interview panel. Chris and his wife Jenny lived in a beautiful barn conversion a little way out of the village, and they had invited us over to their place for dinner with the plan that the men could disappear afterwards for their discussions. Of course I already knew Chris Parsons from being a lay member of various interview panels myself, and had become acquainted with his wife more recently when Chris had agreed to be Godfather to James Henry.

Jenny and I had hit it off straight away. She was friendly, down to earth, and unlike any of my other friends, had actually known Martin longer than me. So she completely understood what he was like, and I found it such a refreshing change to be able to relax and not to have try and make excuses for his taciturn character.

While making arrangements for James Henry's christening, I'd been very surprised indeed to learn that he was their three year old daughter Evie's Godfather, a fact that Martin had typically not thought to mention to me before.

"You never asked," was his response when I quizzed him about why he had never told me he had a Goddaughter.

"How on earth did you get him to agree to it?" I'd asked Jenny in disbelief.

"We just asked him nicely, and explained that it was really just an honoury title, we didn't actually expect him to act in loco parentis. And he's turned out to be very good, he always remembers her at Christmas and on her birthday," she'd explained.

Remembering Martin's efficient spread sheets and diaries, that part didn't surprise me so much. What did surprise me was watching Evie with Martin this evening. When we arrived, their children – Dan aged ten, Ben aged eight and three year old Evie were still around. The boys quickly disappeared upstairs to their rooms, but little Evie, although wearing her pyjamas ready for bed, hung around as we sat in the lounge enjoying a pre-dinner drink. She stared up at Martin as she stood by his knee, clutching a soft knitted doll tucked under one arm, and a book in her other hand. She was a gorgeous little girl, with dark hair and big blue eyes with long dark lashes that she now batted at Martin.

"Read this to me please Uncle Martin," she pronounced, as she proceeded to clamber up onto his lap and snuggle up to him as she handed him the book. Much to my astonishment, Martin didn't protest, he just did as she bade him and quietly read the story of Peter Rabbit to her – he'd given her the boxed set for Christmas.

"I think you can see that Evie adores your Martin, she always makes a bee line straight for him. I don't know where she gets it from, but my young daughter already knows how to get a man eating right out of her hand." Jenny whispered to me, as I watched totally entranced to see a side of Martin that I hadn't imagined existed.

Once the story was over, Jenny insisted that it was time for bed for Evie, and so after she had put her arms around Martin's neck and given him a kiss on his cheek, she reluctantly let herself be taken upstairs.

"What?" Martin asked rather sheepishly, as he saw me smiling widely at him.

"You're a great big old softie aren't you? You just pretend to be all rude and gruff," I said teasingly.

Martin just harrumphed at me to cover his embarrassment as we now made our way into the large stylish kitchen to have our meal, which it turned out had been prepared mainly by Chris rather than Jenny.

"He's the better cook when it comes to proper adult dinners, but I'm better at catering for the kids," Jenny stated.

"That's just her excuse. Jenny gets so engrossed in what she's writing, she forgets all about meals until the kids start complaining. That's the trouble with working from home I suppose, no set start and finishing times," Chris countered as his wife just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. She was a freelance journalist, I'd found out previously.

The meal passed very companionably, and I ignored the fact that Martin scowled when he saw my glass being topped up. I was enjoying the luxury of a glass or two of decent wine with my meal now that I was no longer breast feeding James. Of course the fact that I'd hardly consumed any alcohol for ages meant that it went straight to my head, and I could feel my cheeks flushing.

"I wouldn't have any more to drink Louisa, I think you've had quite enough," Martin hissed in my ear as he and Chris got up at the end of the meal to go and start their discussions.

"Oh for goodness sake Martin, don't be such a spoil sport," I retorted, looking him in the eye as I defiantly reached for the wine bottle to top my glass up again. Martin opened his mouth, no doubt to berate me further, but then had little option but to leave me to it as Chris called out for him to follow him to his study, so he had to settle instead for just giving me a black look.

"Honestly, he can be such an old woman at times," I exclaimed in frustration as I sipped my wine rebelliously.

"He is a funny old stick, no two ways about it," Jenny agreed with a conspiratorial smile. "But he is a rather nice old stick all the same."

"I know, I know, and it's nice to hear someone other than me defending him for a change actually."

"I pride myself that I have managed to get to know the real Martin over the years, just a little bit anyhow," Jenny said.

"He and Chris go back a long way, don't they?" I asked curiously.

"Mm, yes, they met at Med School actually. Apparently they couldn't stand each other to start with. Funny how things turn out isn't it?"

"It certainly is," I agreed, thinking how my first impression of Martin had been that he was some sort of pervert staring at me on the plane from London.

"I'm really glad that you two are making a go of things now, especially with little James in the picture. I was really worried about Martin you know, when you two called off your wedding. He looked dreadful, but he wouldn't talk to anyone about it, just shut himself off," Jenny told me.

"Sounds about right," I agreed, thinking of how hard Martin found it to open up even to me.

"I sent Chris over to check up on him, and that's when he said about wanting to move on, get back into surgery. Can't have been easy for him after all this time, having to face up to his blood phobia."

"No, I think he's worked really hard, and I'm proud of him for it," I agreed.

Jenny took a sip of her wine and then looked at me for a long minute, as if trying to weigh up whether to say something.

"Look, tell me to mind my own business, but…" she hesitated.

"What? Go on, you might as well spit it out," I told her, curious to hear what was on her mind.

"Don't mess with Martin. He doesn't deserve that, because he is one of the most decent, loyal and honest blokes I've ever met. I can imagine that he is also probably one of the least romantic men you're ever likely to come across, but he'd never lie or cheat on you, which I think on balance is far more important than having some smooth talking bastard in your life who sends you flowers while he's shagging your best friend," Jenny lectured me.

"Yes, I know…" I tried to say, but it seemed there was no stopping her now that she was in full flow, the free flowing wine having loosened her tongue it seemed.

"He's the old school, old fashioned type of man who wants to look after you and take care of you, which probably offends your independent sensibilities somewhat, but if you would just let him, it would mean the world to him because he's never really had anyone to care for before. He's had a pretty rough trot over the years, that I can tell you, and I think that's why he's so good with James Henry, because he can care for him without the fear of being rejected."

"I know, I hear what you're saying and I do agree with you," I said.

"Then why in heavens name why don't you just put the poor guy out of his misery and marry him for goodness sake?"

"Martin and I have talked about it, and when the time is right…" I tried to explain.

"Bollocks! That's just delaying tactics and you know it Louisa. Martin isn't the 'living together', 'this is my partner', type of man is he? He no doubt wants to do everything properly by the book, for you to be his wife, for him to be allowed to provide for you and James?"

"Yes, I know," I agreed, thinking of everything Martin had said to me recently.

"I've always thought Martin would make a cracking husband, once you smoothed off a few rough edges. And you make a great couple you know –you liven him up, he's your dependable rock. I'd just love to see him really happy, proudly introducing you to all and sundry as his wife."

"I suppose," I mumbled.

"And I'm sure he'll soon catch up, make up for lost time …in _other_ areas, if you catch my drift, given time and a bit of practice," Jenny suggested as she raised her eyebrows at me knowingly.

I spluttered and choked as I realised what she meant, and then burst out laughing.

"Oh God, if you mean what I think you mean, then you couldn't be more wrong," I gasped.

"Well I just assumed…I mean I imagine it's been a long time since he's…you know…seen any action, so I thought he might be a bit rusty," she tried to tactfully suggest.

"Rusty? Martin? Lusty would be more like it," I guffawed.

"Really, _do_ tell," Jenny probed curiously, as she finished off her glass of wine and then poured us both another.

"No, I couldn't, but let's just say that he knows a whole deal more than just what goes where, he's…err…how can I put it…satisfyingly competent in the bedroom," I told her as I giggled and tried to tap my nose knowingly but instead poked myself in the eye.

"Well, well, who'd have guessed? I always suspected he had hidden depths, but I never imagined…well I suppose it's always the quiet ones isn't it? So then, what exactly is your problem? Just marry the poor bugger. Let him buy you a whopping great diamond ring, a big house in the country and a nice car, that'd make him verrrry happy Louisa," Jenny slurred as she gave a lopsided grin.

"I won't be a kept woman," I claimed sanctimoniously. "I don't need a man, I can manage by myself."

This had been my mantra, my incantation to myself for so many years, to calm and reassure myself each time I was let down and left on my own, that it was hard for me to think in any other terms, I realised in a sudden moment of clarity. It had become second nature for me to shut people out and keep them at a distance, and now I didn't even know that I was doing it. It was exactly what I had accused Martin of so many times, and yet I was just as guilty as him, in fact more so because he was now the one who wanted to make a real commitment and it was me dragging my heels. My moment of self-revelation was interrupted as Jenny proclaimed,

"Bullshit. You're telling me you'd rather be on your own than have Martin the stallion at your beck and call?

With that we both collapsed over the table in a fit of giggles.

**xXx**

Martin's face looked as if he was sucking on lemons as we made our way home later that evening.

"You're drunk Louisa," he said disapprovingly.

"I'm not, I'm just a little bit merry that's all. You need to learn that there's nothing wrong in letting your hair down once in a while Martin," I defended myself as I sat back in the car seat and closed my eyes to try and stop my head from spinning rather disconcertingly. Truth was I'd drunk more than I'd intended when Jenny and I had had our girlie chat in the kitchen. Hopefully by the time we'd driven back, my head would have cleared a bit.

I'd planned on getting Martin in a better mood when we got back home by instigating some bedroom activities between us, but by the time he returned from dropping Maureen back home after her baby sitting duties, I'd crashed out fast asleep on our bed. When I woke up the following morning, I had a terrible headache and a parched mouth like the bottom of a budgie cage. Needless to say I got short shrift from Martin, his sympathy for my self induced condition only extending as far as handing me a glass of water and two paracetamol, along with his customary scowl and an even grumpier expression than usual.


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 23**

Louisa and I had been summoned by Aunt Ruth to have Sunday lunch with her, as she said she had something she wanted to discuss. She wouldn't give a hint at all about what it was, only that she wanted to be certain that both of us would definitely be there.

"What do you think she wants?" Louisa queried.

"No idea. No point in speculating, could be anything," I replied, knowing that Aunt Ruth could be decidedly eccentric at times.

So that was how we came to be up at Havenhurst, sitting at the table, having enjoyed a pleasant enough roast dinner, considering that I suspected most of the ingredients had been bought ready prepared rather than obtained from the farm garden. Ruth did not have Joan's green fingers, that much was clear.

James Henry had also been fed and so was sitting happily enough for now on Louisa's lap, dribbling all over her as he was teething again and playing with the buttons on her cardigan.

"I expect you are both wondering what I wanted to talk to you about," Ruth now said, as she poured the coffee and handed it out.

"Well, yes actually, we are rather curious, aren't we Martin?" Louisa replied, nudging me to agree with her.

"Well you see the thing is, I'm coming to the end of my sabbatical leave, and so I've got to make a decision about whether or not to take early retirement and stay in Cornwall permanently, or instead return to London to resume my career for a few more years until my normal retirement age."

"I see. And what are your thoughts so far Aunt?" I queried.

"It's not an easy decision to make as there are a lot of factors to weigh up. I'd always thought it would be wonderful to have the time to sit and write a book, and these months here in Cornwall should have presented me with the perfect opportunity, and yet…" Aunt Ruth hesitated and took a sip of her coffee and stared into space.

"And yet what?" Louisa prompted her after a while, as she seemed to be lost in her thoughts.

"I can't seem to focus on getting any writing done, apart from following up my on-going cases at Broadmoor. I can't seem to let go, not yet, so perhaps that tells me that I'm not actually ready to retire yet."

"Maybe because you haven't properly committed yourself to staying here as yet," I suggested.

"Possibly, yes. But that aside, there are a lot of practical considerations to take into account too. Havenhurst needs an awful lot of remedial work done, it's really in quite a bad way. I've had it professionally surveyed to discover the full extent of what needs doing, and it makes for quite shocking reading actually," she explained with a heavy sigh.

"I think we all know that over recent years, Joan just didn't have the funds to do anything more than just patch the farm up as best she could, and of course she absolutely refused to ever let me help her out financially, she always insisted she was fine," I replied.

"I know, that sister of mine was a very proud and stubborn old bird, wasn't she? Please don't think that I am in any way criticising her, or you, because I know all about you buying out your fathers' share of the farm a while back, for which I know Joan was eternally grateful, and is why I'd always assumed she would leave the farm to you. Was one hell of a shock I can tell you, to discover I'd inherited it."

"We discussed it. I'm no farmer, and Joan's wish was for you to retire down here, so that was why she left Havenhurst to you."

"I understand that now, but to be honest it almost feels as if Joan is blackmailing me to do what she wants. I'm no farmer either."

"I'm sure that was not her intention," I protested.

"No, I know. Anyway, following on from the survey, I got some builders quotes to see how much it would cost to bring this place up to scratch. Luckily I got chatting with your friend Chris Parsons at James' christening, and he recommended some good tradesmen who'd worked on his place, which I gather also needed a heck of a lot of work done on it when they first moved in," she explained.

"Their place is really beautiful, isn't it Martin, they've got a lovely home now," Louisa piped up, as she jiggled James up and down on her knee to keep him amused.

"Hmm. Seems adequate enough," I agreed.

"Of course all the builders round here are very keen to take any big project they can get their hands on because the recession has hit Cornwall particularly hard, so I think the quotes I obtained were pretty competitive. Even so, it would take a considerable chunk out of the savings I've put by for my retirement, it would be quite a considerable drain, to be honest. Although I have to say, when I called in the architect that designed Chris's barn conversion to see what he thought could be done, he thought Havenhurst was in a fantastic location and had great potential. He came up with some wonderful ideas, very tempting."

"I see, so what have you decided then? Has that swayed you to stay here?" I asked.

"Well the thing is, even if I did have all the work done, I'd end up rattling around in a great big place all by myself. I can't possibly run the farm with all the animals and so on, and I can't afford to employ Al full time, especially if I retire and have to live on just my pension, having spent all my savings doing the place up."

"So, are you going to sell then? Is that what you've decided?" I asked regretfully, but understanding that Ruth had weighed up all the pros and cons logically and sensibly.

"Well that is one option. I have spoken to the neighbouring farmer to see if he would be interested in either renting or buying some or all of the land, and he's going to let me know. But the architect said that the value of the land is affected by the fact that although he wouldn't foresee any problems with getting planning permission for alterations to the farm house and outbuildings, he's pretty certain that no new buildings such as extra houses, would be allowed on any of the farmland."

"It would be such a shame if it were built on, it is so beautiful, and it would be so terribly sad to see Havenhurst go," Louisa murmured, looking quite upset, and I must admit I also felt a terrible pang at the thought.

"Well, I do have another suggestion, which is why I needed both of you here," Ruth said as she smiled at us. "I think I've finally come to the conclusion that despite Joan's wishes, I'm really not ready to retire just yet. I love my work too much and I think I've still got a few good years left in me. I also miss my nice cosy flat in London, this place is really far too big for me. What this place is crying out for, what it really needs, is for a family to live in it, to breathe some life into it again."

Ruth studied both of us to see our reaction to this pronouncement. Neither of us really reacted as we didn't realise what she was driving at.

"Oh for goodness sake, come on you two! I admit at first that I had my reservations about whether you were really suited, but having watched you together recently I'm prepared to concede that maybe I was wrong. But if you are going to stand any kind of a reasonable chance of making a go of things between you, which I'm assuming is what you both want, you can't carry on as you are in that little cottage, especially with the baby as well. So what I'm suggesting is that _you_ consider taking on Havenhurst and doing it up. No doubt Martin is going to be earning a healthy wack in his new combined role, so I imagine you could afford all the necessary renovations. You could keep some of the land for a decent garden, and then rent or sell the remaining farm land. It's not that far from the village and you can both drive. So, what are your thoughts?"

"I..err..I don't know what to say," I replied, taken aback and rather flummoxed by this unexpected offer.

"We couldn't…it'd be so expensive…and Joan left it to _you_," Louisa worried.

"Look, considering how much money Martin put up to ensure Joan could stay on here, I really think she should have left the place to him, and I'm sure if she'd thought for one second that you two were going to be raising your child together, she would have done so, but as far as she was concerned, Martin was buggering off back to London. However, I do suspect that she still harboured a dream that maybe Louisa would come to live on the farm with her once the baby was born, so that she could be involved and help out, especially as Martin wasn't going to be around." Ruth explained.

"Yes, Joan was very kind to me when I first came back to the village and she did say that I could stay with her. But I couldn't possibly have taken her up on the offer because it would have meant her running me back and forth to the village for work every day, as I couldn't afford a car of my own at the time," Louisa explained, and for the thousandth time I felt incredibly guilty and upset that Louisa had not felt able to turn to me to ask for help.

"God forbid you would let anyone help you out, you were so bloody independent and determined to go it alone," I stated bitterly, and was rewarded by an angry swish of her pony tail as Louisa turned to glare at me.

"Well I don't recall you trying very hard to change my mind actually Martin. Too busy cosying up with your ex fiancée, as I recall," Louisa shot back at me with a look that could kill.

"Right, well I don't think it's particularly helpful at this point for either of you to start with recriminations, but it does sound to me as if you still have some unresolved issues to talk through. In which case, I would thoroughly recommend couple counselling as a suitable option, and I can get some names…"

"Dear God no!" I exclaimed, horrified because I couldn't think of anything worse.

"That won't be necessary, thank you Ruth," Louisa also assured her to my great relief, gently patting and rubbing the baby's back as he drowsily settled against her shoulder, looking the picture of contentment.

Ruth stared hard at both of us for a long minute, clearly not convinced that we shouldn't immediately be booked in for some sort of intensive therapy mumbo jumbo. Then she rolled her eyes, gave a deep sigh and continued.

"In any case, I will be leaving Havenhurst, or the proceeds from it, to Martin in my will when it's time for me to meet my maker. So I'm just thinking that maybe it makes more sense to sort it all out sooner rather than later as you clearly have an urgent need for a larger place now."

"But your retirement…" Louisa protested. "Havenhurst is for your retirement."

"Look, if you did decide to take this place on, the deal would be that you have to keep a decent guest room for me to come and stay at Christmas and any other holidays in between when I feel the need to escape from London, because actually I do rather like it down here in Cornwall. And when I eventually decide to retire for good, your little cottage would be perfect for me Louisa, so maybe I could rent it from you, assuming you've kept it that is. Maybe you could keep it on as a rental property as you did before, if you did move up here."

Ruth reached into the sideboard behind her, and brought out a folder of papers.

"But of course, no doubt you both need time to think over my proposal and discuss it fully, so I'll hand over the surveyor's report, the builder's quotes, and the architect's plans for you both to peruse at your leisure. If, after careful consideration, you decide it's not what you want, then I'll put it on the market as it is, and move back to London."


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 24**

When we left Ruth's that evening, we didn't have the chance to say much in the car on the short journey home as James Henry was crying loudly. He hadn't appreciated being disturbed from where he was happily sleeping in my arms to be put in his car seat, and unfortunately his mood was not helped by the fact that we had somehow managed to forget to bring his cuddly blanket with us, which might have pacified him somewhat. But we were also silent I think because we were both pretty stunned by what Ruth had just proposed by suggesting that we take on Havenhurst.

When we got back to my cottage, I left Martin downstairs studying the surveyors report on the farm, while I set about settling the baby for the evening. James was crabby and out of sorts because he was teething again, and had only had a short afternoon nap. Eventually I managed to get him to settle after giving him a dose of Calpol, wondering how on earth mothers had coped in days gone by when they didn't have the benefit of such reliable pain relief for their babies. Of course that was probably how 'tonics' with sleep inducing alcoholic properties, such as the one that my darling mother had concocted and drugged my little boy with, had come about.

When I came back downstairs, Martin was frowning as he concentrated on making notes on the paperwork Ruth had given us, his laptop on the table in front of him. So it seemed he hadn't immediately ruled out of hand the possibility of taking on Havenhurst.

"We can't take on a working farm Martin, it's just not feasible," I pointed out.

"Hmm? Oh absolutely not, I agree. But as Ruth pointed out, there are other options. That's why I am assessing all the information and facts, to see what might be possible."

As Martin carried on flicking through the surveyors report and then the builders quotes, totting things up and making notes, I picked up the architects plans and drawings to see what he had come up with - naturally I was unable to prevent myself from quickly checking that the architect in question was not my ex, Danny Steele. As talented an architect as I knew he was, having him involved would have been too weird for words.

I'd always thought of Havenhurst as a rather rundown, ramshackle, mish-mash of a place that was functional rather than attractive. Now, seeing it through the eyes of a clearly very talented architect, I suddenly saw the possibilities it offered. By re-arranging the layout of the rooms – something that he apparently thought would be relatively easy, he had conjured up the most wonderful huge kitchen, with large patio doors that opened onto the garden and made the most of the fantastic sea views.

He suggested opening up and combining the dining room and lounge to make a much lighter, free flowing space, but was keen to retain most of the original features to keep the character of the place.

Upstairs, he had re jigged things to include an impressive en suite bathroom to the master bedroom, which was in any case already a decent size, and a smaller en suite to one of the other three bedrooms.

He also suggested that the loft could be converted to provide yet more bedrooms if that was required.

Outside, he suggested that one of the barns could be converted into a double garage with a 'rumpus room' above it – I had no idea what a 'rumpus room' was, but it sounded intriguing. The other barn, he suggested, could be converted into a potential guest suite/granny annexe.

By the time I'd finished looking at the artist's impression of what it could look like at the end of all this work, I felt as if I was looking at my dream home. It was fantastic.

However, when I looked at the builders estimates for how much all this work would cost, I came crashing back down to earth.

"Good grief Martin, have you seen this? There's no way we could possibly afford to do all this," I stated, very disappointed but trying to be sensible.

Martin looked up at me.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"£150,000 Martin! That's what's been quoted, and it would be bound to be more than that, it always is with these projects, so would probably end up being nearer £200,000. I haven't got anywhere near that kind of money to contribute half I'm afraid."

Martin stared at me for a moment, and then started keying into his laptop, before turning it towards me.

"It occurs to me that I have been somewhat remiss in not apprising you of my financial standing before now, so I apologise for my oversight. This is my personal bank account. This figure here is my monthly salary, which will in any case be increasing in my new role. You can see that there is a healthy balance in the account."

He tapped away again, and a spread sheet was displayed.

"This shows the various savings plans and investments that I have accrued over the years. London property is some of the most expensive in the world, and when I sold my Kensington flat in order to secure Joan's farm, the proceeds from that also enabled me to pay off the mortgage that I had on the surgery. Some investments that I have are for the longer term, for example for James Henry's education. However, I am in the fortunate position of having a fair amount of capital at my disposal. I had planned to use these funds as a deposit on a house, but they could be used towards converting Havenhurst instead. If we don't take up Ruth's offer and she puts it up for sale, I think it highly likely that a property developer rather than a farmer would snap the place up. From my initial calculations, I believe it would prove to be a sound investment to pay for the upgrade, and actually very good value," Martin stated and then sat back and folded his hands together as he looked at me.

"What? But it's such a huge sum of money," I protested, very scared indeed by the figures. It had taken me a long time to save up the deposit and persuade myself to take out the mortgage on White Rose Cottage, and that had not been on anything like the same scale as this. Prices had rocketed since then, and I had been very lucky to have bought my place when I did.

"I have been keeping an eye on property prices in this area in case a suitable family house came up, and I can tell you that anything detached, with three or four bedrooms, in a decent location, would probably be on the market for in excess of £600,000. Location is everything, and so a decent four or five bedroom place with spectacular views and land, in a location like Havenhurst, would probably be worth closer to £1 million," Martin stated casually.

I nearly fell off my chair in shock, speechless.

"So basically any money spent on it would be a very sound investment indeed. And I am in the fortunate position of being able to fund a large portion of the development costs, and will have no problem in acquiring a mortgage if required. I just thought you ought to know, to help you make up your mind," he explained. "But of course, before we can go any further, you have to decide whether you would actually want to live there or not. With me. As a family, with our son. As my wife."

As we sat there together, it was plain that we had now reached a critical point in our relationship. It was make or break time. I had to face up to the fact that I could prevaricate with Martin no longer. He was clearly willing to put everything into making a good life for us, a very good life indeed. I could have it all, just like Jenny and Chris Parsons - a successful husband with a very good income, a beautiful stylish home close to the village, children… ah but there was the rub. There was something else, apart from money, that we had never really discussed, but should have done long before we had got to this point.

"The thing is Martin…" I hesitated, not quite knowing how to broach the subject that I had tried so hard to ignore but couldn't any longer.

"What? What is it that's stopping you from just saying 'yes' straight away?" he asked hesitantly, as he fiddled with the papers on the table, unable to look at me.

I took a deep breath and launched into it.

"I'd want us to try for another baby Martin. I'd want James Henry to have a brother or sister. Not yet, not straight away, but at my age I can't afford to leave it too long can I?"

My words hung in the air between us as I searched his face for his reaction. He didn't look at me, instead he stared at the table and shuffled the papers. My heart sunk. Hardly the enthusiastic response I would have hoped for.

"Because as much as I truly love you, if you don't want us to have any more children, then I'm not sure I can do the whole 'happy family' thing with you Martin," I said, as my bottom lip quivered. In my heart of hearts, I just didn't think I could live with a man who was capable of at least trying to give me another baby, but refused.

"Is that what this whole reluctance about us getting married has been about?" Martin asked me quietly, still not looking up at me.

"Yes, well at least in part I suppose, if I'm honest." I didn't try to deny my reluctance now. This was the time to be brutally honest. 'Unresolved issues' Ruth had said, and I realised that she was quite right. It was finally time to air all the things that had been bubbling under the surface for a long time now, otherwise we were never going to be able to move our relationship forward.

"And the rest? What else is holding you back?"

I sighed as I tried to make sense of it all in a way that Martin would understand.

"I'm scared. Scared of losing control of my life, of relying on someone else. Of getting hurt again," I whispered, as a tear slowly fell down my cheek.

Martin reached across to take my hand in his.

"But I would never hurt you Louisa, you can trust me," he insisted.

"Can I? You told me that you couldn't bear to be without me, and then you didn't even turn up for our wedding," I said, as I took my hand back.

"You got cold feet too Louisa. It wasn't just me," Martin replied defensively.

"There was me thinking I was going to leave you devastated at losing the love of your life, but it turned out that you didn't really want to marry me anyway. Didn't take you long to get over me either, because you were too busy canoodling with that red haired witch to make any effort to win me over when I came back carrying your child," I babbled on, as the tears now streamed down my cheeks. "You even had the nerve to ask me if I was sure the baby I was carrying was yours Martin. How do you think that made me feel? Did you honestly think I'd jump into bed with someone else straight after I'd broken things off with you?"

"You caught me off guard Louisa. I know I could have handled things better, but it was one hell of a shock to have you just turn up out of the blue, on my doorstep six months pregnant. Not so much as a phone call, or a letter, nothing to warn or prepare me. How was I supposed to react, what was I supposed to say?"

"It would have been nice to know that you'd missed me. That you were glad to see me. That you still cared just a bit. That we could have worked something out as two civilised adults with a baby on the way."

"But Louisa, you completely shut me out! How do you think that felt? You couldn't get away quick enough, telling me that it wasn't my problem and insisting that you didn't want me involved," Martin said.

"But I didn't mean it Martin. I wanted you to run after me, plead with me, fight for me, demand to be involved with our baby," I told Martin between sobs, as I wiped my eyes with a tissue.

"How was I supposed to know?"

"You just _were_. If you'd really loved me enough, you would have fought for me and not given up, instead of listening to bloody Edith sodding Montgomery whispering in your ear all the time."

"That's not fair, I didn't …" Martin's words trailed off. "Well I suppose she did point out that I didn't need to rescue a grown woman who had chosen to have a baby on her own..."

"I knew it! I _knew_ she was turning you against me! Look, the only reason I didn't contact you for so long and chose to go it alone was because I was sure you wouldn't want a baby and would rather I had an abortion. Which I was right about because practically the first thing you told me was that I'd left it too late for an abortion, that was the first thing that popped into your head. Not '_oh I'm going to be a father, how wonderful_' was it hmm?"

"I was merely pointing out the practicalities. I never said it would have been my preferred option, you just went ahead and made that assumption for me."

"But you have to admit, even though I don't doubt that you love James Henry dearly now, you wouldn't have chosen to go ahead and continue with an unplanned pregnancy, would you? And clearly you have no wish for another baby, because even now you haven't said '_yes Louisa, of course I want another baby with you'_ have you?" A fresh wave of tears hit me.

"You're doing it again Louisa."

"What?"

"Jumping to conclusions, putting words in my mouth, making assumptions. You have a habit of not thinking things through properly, being hasty and impulsive and stubbornly refusing to accept help from any quarter. Like turning up out of the blue on my doorstep six months pregnant and expecting me to be instantly ecstatic. Like deciding to go through with the pregnancy but having no proper plans for child care despite insisting on working full time. Like moving house when seven months pregnant and insisting on shifting the furniture yourself with just a pensioner who suffered from osteoporosis to help."

I sat and sniffled into my tissue, unable to contradict Martin if I was being totally honest. If I was dishing it out to him, then I had to be able take it back.

"Louisa I've never said that I would be against us having another baby, because we've never actually discussed it, have we? But you've gone ahead and just made the assumption all by yourself again. I prefer to weigh things up logically before I make up my mind, so I need to know that if we did have another child, would you take a sensible amount of maternity leave this time? Would you consider staying at home with two small children, or would you still insist on working full time, knowing that I will be away for part of the week and less able to help you? What kind of suitable and reliable childcare is possible with a toddler and a baby? I take the responsibility of bringing a child into the world very seriously indeed, and I would want to be sure that both James Henry and any sibling would be properly raised and cared for before I would agree to go ahead, especially with my new working arrangements." Martin explained, as he handed me a fresh supply of tissues.

"So you're not saying 'no'? You're just being your usual pedantic, cautious, boring self?"

"I'm saying that I have no objections to us trying for another baby at the appropriate juncture," Martin said, as he cautiously looked up at me, and my heart lurched at the enormity of what he had just said.

"Do you really mean that Martin? You wouldn't go back on it, keep finding excuses, that kind of thing?" I asked, not quite able to believe what he seemed to be agreeing to.

"Of course I mean it or I wouldn't have said it would I? But I wouldn't be happy to add to our family unless we were properly settled and committed for the long term. It's one thing to slip up and produce one child out of wedlock, but if we were actually planning another child, well then..."

"You'd want us to be married," I finished for him.

"Yes. That's the way I see it," he confirmed.

What more did I want? We'd both been guilty of foolish decisions that we deeply regretted, and we'd both made widely inaccurate assumptions about each others feelings and actions. When it came down to it, we were as bad as each other, I realised. What mattered now was putting all that behind us, learning from our mistakes and grabbing with both hands the good life that lay in front of us. I resolved there and then that I had to stop always looking for what could go_ wrong_, and instead look for what could go _right._ I had to let myself believe that Martin, for all his faults, was nothing like my father, or Danny, or any of the other men who had let me down_, _and accept that that was why I was always drawn back to him, however hard I struggled against it.

"OK Martin. Let's just go for it. The whole hog. Get married, move to Havenhurst, and fill it with lots and lots of babies!" I said.

Martin looked shocked.

"I was thinking that maybe we could perhaps have just one more baby Louisa. I mean at your age..." he looked at me as I burst out laughing, then he relaxed as he realised that I was winding him up. "You're teasing me again, aren't you?"

"Just a little bit Martin. If we were lucky enough to be able to have just one more healthy baby like James Henry, I'd be over the moon and count my blessings three times over," I assured him as I reached over to take both his hands in mine.

"And you really mean it about us getting married?" Martin asked.

"I'll turn up this time if you will," I told him, as I leaned over the table to kiss him tenderly on the lips.

"Nothing, but_ nothing_ will prevent me from making you my wife this time," Martin promised me emotionally, as he stood up to pull me to my feet so that he could take me in his arms and lift me off my feet in an enormous bear hug.


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 25**

When Louisa finally agreed that we should 'just go for it', get married and move up to Havenhurst, I picked her up and hugged her, just as I had when she had agreed to marry me the first time, and I felt just as euphoric now as I had then.

And yet this was totally different. Last time I'd acted out of character by impulsively proposing, pushed into taking action because I'd been scared of losing Louisa, the love of my life, forever. This time though, I had had plenty of time to think things through properly, and so now I was sure, completely certain, that getting married was absolutely the right thing for us to do.

And if it took agreeing to try for another baby to get Louisa to finally marry me, then I could live with that. Since James Henry's birth, much to my complete and utter surprise, I had discovered that being a father was really rather wonderful and fulfilling, and it had given my life a whole new purpose and direction. Now, for our son's sake, Louisa and I had a duty to act as responsible adults, rather than squabble like teenagers as we had had a habit of doing in the past.

My only concern about us having another baby would be ensuring that Louisa didn't overdo things as she had when expecting James Henry. But as her husband, I could be so much more supportive and involved, instead of being frustratingly excluded. Of course, this was assuming that we would actually be able to conceive another child – at our ages James Henry may well have just been a lucky fluke, and we might not be so successful again.

So who needed couples counselling anyway? Aunt Ruth's suggestion had been well intentioned I suppose, but completely misguided. Louisa and I had managed, under our own volition, to hold a reasonably sensible adult discussion to sort out some long held misunderstandings. In truth, I was still a little confused, because Louisa had informed me that although she didn't always say what she meant, she still expected me to be able to fathom out what it was that she did actually mean. Of course, I understood that a lot of her illogical behaviour could be explained by female hormonal imbalances, over which she had little control. So I supposed that it wasn't her fault that she could act so irrationally and I had to make allowances for this, but the fact of the matter was that as a male, I doubted that I would ever fully comprehend her thought processes.

**xXx**

Of course, in our highly emotional state, we had inevitably ended up making love, our passionate kissing and then urgent fumbling to discard our clothes suddenly halted by the realisation that it was possible for anyone to see us as they walked along the main village street, if they glanced in through the windows of the cottage.

"I…err...think we'd better take things upstairs," I suggested.

Louisa smiled as she slowly led me by the hand towards the stairs, but then teased me as she stood on the second stair to kiss me again as she unbuttoned my shirt. I reciprocated by unbuttoning her blouse and kissing her behind her ears and then kissing her neck, next heading towards her breasts that were encased in a pretty white lacy bra, but then Louisa laughed as she pulled away and ran upstairs, with me following closely behind her. We made it to the bedroom, hastily drawing the curtains before collapsing onto the bed to continue with our love making.

I counted myself to be an incredibly lucky man to be Louisa's lover, and so I had studied and researched in great detail the best techniques to ensure that I gave as much sexual pleasure to her as she gave to me. The quite substantial difference in our height and size had proved a little challenging for us to start with, but it had certainly proved interesting finding some solutions.

That it was my name she called out when she reached her climax, to feel her clinging to me as she dug her nails into my back at her peak, I found to be incredibly erotic. I felt so privileged to be allowed to share the exquisite sensations that she willingly offered to me.

Whatever problems Louisa and I had had in our relationship, compatibility in the bedroom was certainly not one of them.

Now both happily sated, Louisa was in my arms with her head lying on my chest, and although her hair was tickling my nose a bit, I loved feeling her naked body against mine. She felt so soft, so warm, so curvy and well… _womanly_.

"Martin, that was just divine," she murmured as she curled her leg round mine.

"Well thank you, seeing as divine means 'relating to, or proceeding directly from God'," I pointed out and was promptly rewarded by a sharp dig in the ribs.

"Always have to make a smart remark, don't you?"

"Part of my undoubted charm," I stated modestly. "Look…umm…"

"What is it?"

"You are sure…you know about moving to Havenhurst? Not too far from your beloved village is it?"

I hadn't gone to all the bother of turning down the London job to now blow things by moving her somewhere she wouldn't be happy.

"No, Martin. I shall be down in the village most days for school anyway, so I can still be involved and see everyone. Your Aunt Joan certainly managed to keep abreast of events in the village and be part of everything didn't she? And to be honest, as much as I love it, at times the village can be a bit claustrophobic. You can't so much as sneeze without the whole place knows about it, can you? So this way, I'll have the best of both worlds. Be involved with the village by day, sneak away to the privacy of Havenhurst by night. And there is a path to walk down to the village, as well as driving down."

"As long as you're sure. There are still a few things to sort out. I need to look into the legal implications of Ruth passing it on to us. And see what's to be done about the livestock and land."

"I wouldn't mind keeping on a few chickens, I think we could manage that, and it would be nice to have our own fresh eggs, just like Joan always had," Louisa suggested.

"Not sure you'll have time to look after chickens if you're working full time and looking after James," I pointed out, worried that Louisa was already over-committed.

"Whatever happens, we must make sure that Ruth can come and stay as often as she wants," Louisa insisted. "She's being very kind and generous to us."

"Of course," I agreed, pleased that Louisa felt that way.

"And I can sell White Rose Cottage, to help with the finances," she offered.

"Won't be necessary. Makes more sense to keep it and rent it out. Ruth said about living in it, but as she gets older and more frail, I think something on a ground floor level would be much more suitable," I suggested, thinking of the very steep stairs in White Rose Cottage. The suggestion by the architect for a possible 'granny annexe' at Havenhurst could provide a solution.

"I suppose. I was thinking, it would be nice if you could get someone to rent the farmland rather than buy it, just in case…"

"In case what?"

"Well maybe James Henry might take after Joan and want to be a farmer," Louisa suggested.

"What! I really don't think… I'm sure…I imagine he'll be following in the Ellingham family tradition to study medicine," I said, having no doubt at all that that would be the preferred option for my son.

"James might not want to be a doctor Martin. Has that occurred to you?"

It hadn't actually.

"He might take after me and want to teach. He might want to be a farmer. He might want to be a drummer in a rock band," Louisa pointed out.

"Oh for goodness sake, now you're being ridiculous," I mumbled. No son of mine was going to end up wasting his time playing in some stupid rock band.

"The point is that it will be his choice, you can't force him to be what _you _want," she stated.

I just made some sort of vague noise of agreement to mollify her, but without a doubt I would be steering James Henry towards a career in medicine. Possibly if he showed a leaning towards Law instead, that might also be acceptable, I mused to myself as I dozed off.

**xXx**

When we were woken by James crying a short while later, I went to him as it was my turn, Louisa having settled him earlier.

Poor little chap was very grouchy, clearly tired and wanting to sleep, but in discomfort from his wretched teeth. As I cuddled him in his blanket while we waited for the latest dose of pain relief to work its magic, I thought ruefully of my advice to Louisa when she had first brought the baby home from hospital. Thank goodness she had ignored my stupid words not to pick him up and cuddle him. That was how my parents had brought me up – left to cry by myself for hours on end, never cuddled or reassured. Close physical contact, i.e. cuddling, between my son and I was simply fulfilling a basic human need, I understood now, and I derived just as much comfort from it as he did, I'd realised. My son would never feel neglected or unloved – by either of his parents. And now I was a step nearer to achieving my goal of providing a secure home for him by finally persuading his mother to agree to become an Ellingham too – or so I thought.


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 26**

It turned out that my old friend Holly had been right all along about Martin.

"Bet he's worth a bob or two," she'd declared. She'd always made it her business to know the financial worth of any potential husband. Unlike me, she considered it to be a very important factor in selecting a man. In the circles she moved in, she was no doubt aware that top consultants like her friend Johnny Bamford could afford a very lavish lifestyle indeed – their wives had no need to work, and they had expensive jewellery, designer clothes, and sports cars lavished on them, along with holiday homes in the South of France, skiing holidays and so on – everything that Holly aspired to.

I was aware that Martin appeared comfortably off, with his bespoke suits and his flashy car. But really, apart from his Kensington flat, a few antiques and some nice paintings, it seemed that he had not been at all extravagant over his years as a consultant, but had instead invested his money very wisely. It meant that he was really pretty wealthy and could easily afford to have the work done on Havenhurst to make it into our dream home.

And yet I still felt uncomfortable at not being able to contribute equally, because I'd always paid my way. I didn't ever want anyone to be able to accuse me of being anything like my gambler of a father, who had always been in some sort of debt, weaving and ducking his way through life, robbing Peter to pay Paul, lying and stealing. So I offered to sell White Rose Cottage, but Martin wouldn't hear of it.

"Makes more sense to rent it out," he stated. "Give you some additional income."

Just as he'd shown me his bank statement, what he earned and all his investments, I shared with him all the details of my finances. Of course, they were nothing like on the scale of his.

"You haven't made full use of your tax free ISA* for this year," he pointed out.

"I know, but I haven't had that much money to spare, what with the baby…" I explained, painfully aware that Martin had wanted to buy everything new for James Henry, but that I hadn't let him. He'd hated the old pram that Bert Large had lent to us, and had wanted to buy the latest all singing all dancing type, but again I'd refused, instead getting a second hand buggy from another mum in the village when the old fashioned one proved too unwieldy.

Martin was of course an intensely private person, and so had never bragged or boasted about his money, so I hadn't really had any inkling of his standing until now. When Martin had been about to leave for London and had left me a spread sheet and some post-dated cheques, I'd not even looked at them at the time, determined as I'd been that I wanted nothing from him. More recently I'd come across them again, and realised that he had in fact been extremely generous.

But now when I protested that he shouldn't be spending so much money on Havenhurst, he just quietly said,

"What else should I be spending it on? I want to spend it on securing a home for you and James. Joan would never let me help her out, and I never forced it because I didn't want to offend her dignity and pride. Of course there were times when I just had to step in," he explained.

"Like when you bought out your father's share of the farm," I said, thinking that he really was a very kind and generous man underneath that tough exterior. I was so proud of him for helping out Joan in her hour of need, and typically telling no one about it.

"Yes. And then when I found out that Joan was driving around with no car insurance, I had to sort that out for her."

"Of course you did Martin," I told him tenderly, knowing that he must still miss her dreadfully.

"She really wanted me to be a proper father to the baby you know. Kept nagging me, chipping away to get me to see sense," Martin told me as he looked down at his son asleep in his buggy next to us where we were sitting in the cottage. He tenderly stroked James' cheek. "I think she knew that if I just saw him, just held him, well then I wouldn't ever be able to abandon him would I?"

"Joan was very wise, wasn't she?" I agreed. "But Martin…"

"What?"

"I hope us getting married and renovating Havenhurst is not just because you feel guilty about James. I know how much you care about him…"

"How much I care about you _both_," he insisted. "I'm just thankful that James has provided the link that has drawn us together again. And now that we are getting married, everything will be as it should be. So…umm… have you a date in mind, for the wedding I mean?"

At least he seemed to have learnt his lesson from James' christening and hadn't gone ahead and just booked something without consulting me.

"I thought maybe April, during the Easter school holidays. What do you think?"

"That could work. I shall consult my diary. I have the interviews for my new partner during March, and of course the blasted refresher course to waste my time on before I can take up my new post," Martin replied. I knew that he was not looking forward to that at all, but had accepted that he had no option but to complete it. There was talk of him doing an intensive crash course in London, which I think meant pulling a few strings and calling in some favours, but nothing definite could be arranged until he had managed to fill the vacancy for his practice.

"I just want a very quiet affair Martin. As small as possible, no big fuss, no one taking over and deciding to be my bridesmaid when I don't even want one, or arranging a disastrous reception," I said firmly. The last thing I wanted was a replay of our non-wedding.

"You'll get no argument from me on that score I can assure you. I'd be more than happy not to tell a soul. We could simply disappear one afternoon, grab a couple of people off the street as witnesses, and just get married," Martin suggested, and I had no doubt that he was serious.

"Well maybe not quite as extreme as that," I backtracked a bit.

"It's up to you Louisa. I told you before; however, wherever you want to get married is fine by me. I will conform to your wishes. All I want is for us to be married as soon as we can."

"Martin that is so sweet," I said, thinking that he could be romantic after all.

"So if you could get a move on and book a date before the end of the tax year in April, that would be very prudent and financially beneficial," he stated in a very matter of fact manner.

Ah Right. Not so romantic after all, I thought to myself. Well I couldn't expect Martin to change overnight could I?

**xXx**

I'd always wanted babies, to have a family of my own, but had spent a long time building my career to achieve my goal of getting my own Headship – and then it had proved so hard to find a suitable man to have a family with. I remember once telling Bert Large that I wanted 'lots' of babies, once I found the right man. That was before I actually had one and found out how incredibly tiring and demanding a baby really was. Up till then, I'd thought it would be a breeze, being a working mum and having just one small baby to look after, so of course I'd assumed that I'd have no problem managing on my own without the father. How hard could it be? I'd soon settle the baby into a routine, and anyway they slept all the time – right?

How wrong could I have been? I soon discovered that having a baby was absolutely knackering and totally exhausting. My baby didn't sleep all the time, and certainly not at night. I'd always prided myself on being organised and coping well under pressure, but that was when I'd been able to get a good solid eight hours of sleep at night. It all went to pot when you were sleep deprived I discovered, and as much as I hated to admit it, I'm not sure how I would have got through those first few weeks without Martin. For all his undoubted faults, he was there for me when I really needed him, at least for giving practical help if nothing else.

So if at some point in the future, Martin and I did have another baby, now that I understood what hard work it was, should I give in to what Martin wanted? That for once in my life I should just kick back, relax and consider taking the full amount of maternity leave? Let Martin support me, not rush back to work, but instead stay at home for a while to enjoy what would be my last baby? There was no doubt that I felt very torn at times, trying to be a good mum to James, but also trying hard to keep my career going – it was a very hard juggling act, and there was no doubt that I had dropped several balls on several occasions. I just let these thoughts percolate through the inner recesses of my mind, until something Martin casually handed to me made me rethink.

"I've made a list for you," he stated, as he handed me a piece of paper. Martin was always making lists.

"Oh? What's this for?" I asked, as I studied a long list that included my bank, the passport office, the tax office, the land registry, my driving licence, my employer - it went on and on.

"It's everyone that you will need to inform of your change of name," Martin explained.

"And what change of name is that then?" I queried, my hackles starting to rise.

Martin looked at me as if I was stupid.

"When you become Mrs Louisa Ellingham, once we're married of course."

"And what makes you think that I'm going to change my name?" I queried.

"Well of course you will. When a woman marries, she always takes her husband's name. So you'll be Mrs Louisa Ellingham."

"No, I won't actually Martin. I shall continue to be who I've always been – _Ms_ Louisa _Glasson_."

The truth was that up until that point I hadn't actually decided one way or the other about taking his name, but his attitude, his certainty about what I should do, as usual without even thinking to discuss it with me, made it suddenly very important to me that I keep my own identity.

"Don't be so ridiculous Louisa!" Martin exploded.

"I'm not. I think you'll find that as far as the law is concerned, when a woman gets married, she is not obliged to take her husband's name if she doesn't want to. Consequently I shan't be needing to contact anyone," I told him firmly as I handed the list back.

"But you'll be my _wife_!" Martin said spluttered.

"Technically, yes," I told him with an icy coolness.

"So why on earth wouldn't you take my name?"

"I have spent many years and worked very hard to build a name for myself in my profession Martin. I don't see why I should suddenly have to change it when I don't need to."

I could see the look of disdain on Martin's face as he rolled his eyes, and it just made my blood boil.

"Oh you may sneer, because you've always belittled my career, but it's very important to me. I'm actually very well regarded in the educational field, and if you'd ever bothered to take the slightest bit of interest, you'd know that my school is considered one of the top in Cornwall, because it has one of the highest 'value added' scores for its pupils. Why do you think I was welcomed back with open arms to the school when I returned, and why they've been so flexible with me? Because I'm a _damn_ good teacher and a _damn_ good Head as well."

"I don't dispute that fact Louisa. I've never said…"

"Yes you have, you've made countless snide remarks about my school and the supposed lack of discipline. You, who knows precisely _nothing _about children and education."

"I still don't see why any of this means that we can't all have the same name, for James Henry's sake." Martin persisted as he changed tack.

"I'll explain it to him when he's old enough, and he'll be fine, he'll understand," I countered. "And tell me Martin, if you had married your ex fiancé Edith, would you have expected her to take your name?"

"That's irrelevant. That would have been different."

I could tell by the look on his face that he knew full well that she most certainly would not have taken his name.

"Why? Because she's a high and mighty doctor, not just a lowly teacher? You lot really do think you're so much better than everyone else don't you?"

With that I left the room and went upstairs to the bedroom to cool off before I said something really nasty that I would regret.

Why did Martin always do this? Just as I was beginning to think that I might ease back on my career for a little while, he had to act in such an arrogant and condescending manner that I found myself hating the very idea of becoming one of those rich, yummy mummy, stay at home types. No doubt Martin would love nothing better than to have me totally dependent on him, the undoubted breadwinner of the family. Well that wasn't me, and never would be, and if that was what Martin wanted then he'd better think again, I decided.

I took a deep breath as I heard him coming up the stairs, and decided that I must keep my cool and explain things to him in a logical, calm and adult manner. Martin couldn't help his upbringing, but I felt that it was high time I reminded him of his wish not to be anything like his father.

**A/N**

***ISA** Individual Savings Account. Cash ISA's allow you to invest up to a set amount of money per year into savings, which earn you tax free interest. This year the allowance was £5,340 for a cash ISA.


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 27**

After Louisa had disappeared upstairs, I picked James Henry up as he woke from his nap in the buggy, most likely disturbed by our heated exchange of words. Luckily though, he seemed in a much happier mood than of late as he smiled and grinned at me, and as I felt around his gums, I detected that another little tooth had erupted. Usually once the tooth was through, it didn't cause him such discomfort, so hopefully now he would be back to his usual cheerful self.

As I held him close, I took a deep breath to calm my frayed temper following the latest discussion with his mother. In the past, any such disagreement would have been enough to cause one of our numerous break ups. But now we had a responsibility to this little boy to work things through, so as I went upstairs with him, I realised that I had to try my best to bite my tongue and try to discover why Louisa was so obstinately determined to keep the 'Glasson' name. Personally, I would have thought she would have been only too glad to be shot of it, associating her as it did with her criminal father, but evidently that was not the case.

I found Louisa sitting on the edge of the bed, and so I went and sat next to her, dandling James on my knee to keep him happy, and a moment or so passed between us in silence.

"Why is it so important to you that you keep your maiden name?" I finally asked.

"Because it's who I am. I'm a person in my own right. I don't want to be just your appendage, the little wife of the great Martin Ellingham who can't think for herself," she explained with some feeling.

"But you wouldn't be! It's not like that," I protested.

"OK, so then you tell me why it is so important to you that I take your name," Louisa responded, as she played with James' toes, making him laugh and giggle as he sat on my lap.

"Because…because I want us to be a proper, traditional family. Don't you think it would be best if you had the same name as James and me? It would be much more appropriate surely?"

"There are all sorts of families these days Martin. You think the old fashioned traditional type is best, just like your parents?"

"Well, yes I do actually. And I'd have thought most women would be happy, proud even, to take a name like Ellingham," I said, exercising great control in not pointing out the criminal association with her father's name.

"Like your mother, who happily took the Ellingham name without question when she married your father? From what you've told me, I gather she didn't have a career of her own, so of course she never worked when she was married. She just happily accepted that your father made all the decisions for them, and that he provided everything for her and for you?"

"Yes, of course he did."

"Nice affluent lifestyle, jewels, clothes, private education for you, all that kind of thing?"

"Yes."

"So everything looked perfect to the outside world, the traditional image of the husband looking after his wife? And that's your role model?"

"I suppose so, yes," I agreed, feeling a little uncomfortable talking about my parents' marriage.

"But behind closed doors, were they happy? Were you a happy child? Or was it all just a front, a façade. Didn't you tell me that your father had numerous affairs? That your mother was a deeply unhappy and bitter woman? That in any case he eventually failed financially due to making some very bad investments, hence why he descended on Joan to bail him out?"

Of course I couldn't deny any of this, as Louisa well knew.

"And you had a terrible childhood, from what I've managed to glean from you and Ruth. Left to cry, smacked, beaten, shut in the cupboard under the stairs, sent away to school. Neglected and abusive, I'd call it actually Martin."

"Well I wouldn't say it was as bad as all that," I protested. "I had a very good education, it enabled me to get into the best medical school," I pointed out.

"Academically you may have had a good education, but what about all the other aspects? You can't deny that socially you've always struggled, can you?"

"Just the way I am," I mumbled.

"Nature or nurture? From my considerable experience in education Martin, I would assess that you were a shy, sensitive, highly intelligent child, who would probably always have struggled to fit in socially, but with the right upbringing and education you would have had far fewer problems integrating."

"I don't see what this has got to do with anything," I protested.

"All I'm saying is, don't hold up your parents' marriage, their way of doing things and your upbringing, as a perfect example of how things should be done, and expect me to act in the same way as your mother. Not when you specifically told me that you didn't want to be anything like your father, or James to be like you."

With that, Louisa took James from me, and disappeared off to his room to change his nappy, while I remained sat on the edge of the bed and thought about what she had said for a few minutes.

**xXx**

I stood in the doorway of James' tiny room, watching Louisa as she finished changing the baby. She talked to him all the time as she let him have a kick without his nappy, tickling him and making him laugh. That she was a wonderful, loving mother was plain for anyone to see.

"Louisa, you are _nothing_ like my mother, thank God!" I said, causing her to turn round and look at me. "And I am _nothing _like my father."

"Then why on earth do you want us to do things the way they did?" she asked.

"I don't, that's not the reason at all, you've got it all wrong. I just think…well I just really like the idea…it would mean a lot to me if you would be prepared to acknowledge that you were my partner, my lover, and my friend by doing me the honour of sharing my name, Louisa."

She stared back at me, and to my horror I saw her eyes fill with tears.

"What? Have I said the wrong thing again?" I sighed despairingly.

"Martin that is _beautiful_. Why didn't you say something like that in the first place, rather than just shoving a piece of paper at me and telling me to get on with it?" she said emotionally.

"I didn't. At least I didn't mean to. I was just trying to be helpful, get organised because we have a really busy few weeks ahead of us," I tried to explain.

"I just hate feeling as if I'm not in control of my life, that you're taking over and that I just have to do as I'm told and fit in," Louisa told me vehemently.

"Louisa, you have to learn to trust me. I just want what's best for you and for James, that's all. You don't have to prove to me, or to anyone else, that you are some sort of a super woman who can do everything by yourself without any kind of help. It's not a sign of weakness to let me do things for you," I pointed out.

Louisa didn't look convinced.

"Of course, as far as your name goes, another possibility is that you could use both names, you could be known as 'Mrs Louisa Glasson-Ellingham'," I suggested, thinking to myself that it would then be relatively easy to quietly drop the 'Glasson' element of it.

Louisa pulled a face.

"I'm really not that keen on double barreled names, they always sound so poncy to me," she replied unenthusiastically.

"Well maybe you could have a think about that option anyway," I suggested hopefully. "Look, I'm sorry if you have perceived me as being less than supportive of your career. I will try harder in future, as I realise that I have to appreciate that you carry the challenging responsibility of educating the children in this village. Not an easy task considering the interbred, moronic parental background of most of them…."

"Martin! You were doing so well, so don't spoil things!" Louisa warned me sharply, and so I held my tongue once again.

Louisa finished dressing James, then picked him up and cuddled him as he babbled happily.

"OK, how about we compromise. I'll remain Ms Glasson at work, and for all professional matters. But at home, here with you, I'll be your partner, your lover and your friend. For you, I will be Mrs Louisa Ellingham."

It wasn't really what I wanted at all. I wanted her to use her married name all of the time, for everything, and I would certainly be filling in that name on all the paperwork that I had control over. But I realised that I had no choice but to accept what she was offering me with as good grace as I could muster. All I could hope was that maybe, in time, she would gradually come round to my way of thinking.

"Very well, as you wish," I said, heaving a big sigh.

"Oh Martin, please don't take it as a personal rejection. It's just what feels right for me," Louisa said as she came over, clearly picking up on my evident disappointment. She reached up to kiss my cheek, and then handed James over to me.

"Can you go and start feeding him, while I dispose of this and wash my hands?" she asked, indicating the soiled nappy, as she headed towards the bathroom.

"Thank goodness I eventually went ahead and filled out your birth registration forms, James Henry _Ellingham_," I muttered to my son as we headed downstairs, remembering how many weeks we had dithered over his name.

At times, it was necessary for someone to take the initiative and be decisive, and so in the case of naming our child, I had decided to get on with it by compromising and using Louisa's preferred choice of first name, but my surname, in order to expedite the matter. It was just a shame that Louisa seemed to perceive these matters as losing control. It really wasn't – it was just me being practical.


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 28**

Suddenly, everything seemed to be happening all at once.

Having spoken to Chris Parsons to confirm that he'd definitely recommend the architect and builders that had undertaken his barn conversion, Martin gave the go ahead for them to start work on Havenhurst, on the basis of the quotes that Ruth had already obtained from them. It was the end of the winter, spring was coming, so it was a good time for them to get cracking on it.

Of course, Martin gave them detailed instructions on which tasks he wanted prioritised and exactly how he wanted the work to be completed. The aim was to undertake the most disruptive jobs, such as the new roof, the re-wiring and the plumbing, before we moved in. Ruth had volunteered to spend the last month of her sabbatical leave staying on to oversee the builders, but Martin insisted she stay at Fern Cottage once the work started. Chris had advised him that the way to get the job done most efficiently and quickly was to appoint the architect to run the project, so that's what Martin did.

"But it's more expensive to get the architect to run it," I worried. "Couldn't we just keep an eye on things, pop up after work and so on?"

"I certainly haven't got time to go chasing after builders and tradesmen, and neither have you with your job and the baby to look after, so I think it makes far more sense to let the supposed expert get on with it. I've made sure that we've agreed a fixed price, so even if work overruns, it won't cost anymore."

As I knew very little about building work, I decided that maybe Martin was right on this one, and anyway, it was his money. If he'd got a fixed price, then at least we knew where we stood I supposed.

We'd agreed to go ahead with everything even though we still hadn't got a solution about what to do with the working farm side of things, deciding that we could no doubt sell or give the animals away and just leave the field fallow if needs be for the time being.

I was still keen on the idea of keeping the chickens, as I'd read up on them and they didn't seem to be too hard to cope with. I think Martin hoped that I'd find them too much work and get fed up with them pretty quickly. We planned to set aside a garden area, and at some point in the future maybe have it landscaped. The main thing would be to have a garden that James Henry could safely play in.

Then one evening I took a phone call from Ruth. She asked to speak to Martin, but as he'd been called out, she had to make do with me.

"You know I said I'd mentioned the land to Bill Pratt over on the neighbouring farm to see if he'd be interested in buying or renting it? Well, he's finally got back to me," she said.

I knew Bill and Linda Pratt because their two children, Tom and Martha, were at my school – nice kids they were too. Bill was the nephew of old Phil Pratt, and he'd taken over the farm when things had got too much for Phil and he'd gone off to retire with his boyfriend in Torquay.

I knew the Pratt's had been struggling to make a go of things, and were looking to diversify to bring in some much needed extra income. Like many farms in the area, they already ran a B & B on the side, and I knew Bill also organised fishing trips for the tourists in the summer.

"They drew up a business plan for the bank to request a loan, proposing to buy the extra land to keep ponies and horses so that they could start a riding school, with the idea that they could run activity holidays, pony trekking and such like, for kids in the school holidays, and for adults at other times of the year. The wife is into horses and all that apparently."

"Sounds like a brilliant idea," I enthused.

"The bank is being very cautious though, and won't back them as it thinks borrowing the required amount of money would over extend them, even though they think the actual plan is sound in principal." Ruth continued.

"Oh what a shame, they must be disappointed."

"Well, there is a compromise, which I don't know if you and Martin would be interested in, because it wouldn't raise as much capital initially," Ruth said.

"Go on," I replied, intrigued.

"The bank has suggested that they rent rather than buy the land, and are prepared to grant them a slightly higher overdraft so that they can set up the business in time for the summer season this year," Ruth explained.

"That sounds feasible, and actually I'd be quite happy not to sell the land, if I'm honest," I said, not elaborating to Ruth my secret suspicion that James might one day want to be a farmer. As a true Ellingham, she would no doubt be of the same opinion as Martin – medicine would be the only possible career choice for our son.

"Well, you discuss it with Martin, see what he thinks," Ruth suggested, and so we left it at that. I couldn't really see any reason why Martin would object to the land being rented to the Pratts – it would provide a simple, workable solution about the land. I didn't suppose he liked horses any more than he liked dogs or any other pets, but I thought that as long as he didn't have to have anything to do with any of it, it wouldn't worry him. In any case, the Pratts were happy to take the dozen or so sheep that Joan had kept and that Al had been minding for Ruth, as they intended to also have a petting zoo as an added attraction.

So, there could be a pony school next door. I thought that would be really great, and I was already imagining James having riding lessons.

When I'd been a little girl, I used to dream of having a pony of my own, probably because I'd seen so many horses on the little TV screen in the betting shop that I used to spend a lot of time in with my dad.

"Don't you worry Princess, I'm going to get you a pony of your very own for your next birthday, you'll see," he promised me on a regular basis.

I remember waking up on my seventh birthday, and being so excited, as I asked my mum what colour she thought the pony my dad had got for me was.

"Pony? What pony? Oh Lulu, you didn't really think he'd get you one did you?"

My mother laughed at my disappointed face and my tears.

"Never mind, you'll soon get used to his broken promises I'm afraid sweetheart. You'll learn quick enough that man's big on words and short on action," she told me. "And anyway, where did you think we'd keep a pony? Ponies are for rich folk with money and land, not for the likes of us."

Of course she was right. I did get used to broken promises, and ponies were for rich folk.

**xXx**

"Don't forget that I was the lay member on your interview board," I reminded Martin. He'd looked surprised when I'd offered to go through the applications for his partner vacancy with him. Now he stared at me for a moment.

"Yes, and you were the only objector to my appointment as I recall," he pointed out. "Gave me quite a hard time didn't you?"

"Well if by that you mean that I didn't instantly fall for your 'I'm a really important consultant doing you a big favour by coming to your lowly little village' routine, then yes, I suppose I did."

"Hmm. Cast your eye over these candidates then," Martin grunted as he passed the papers over. "I've narrowed it down to these three."

I read with interest the C.V.'s of the doctors concerned. I didn't bother to check out their professional qualifications, as they wouldn't have made it to Martin's short list if they hadn't been suitably qualified.

The first was Brendan Taylor, a GP from the leafy suburbs of Surrey, in his mid-fifties, who was looking to semi retire down in Cornwall. His hobbies included sailing and sea fishing I noted.

"He'd probably fit in with the locals quite well I suppose," I said, as I read. "But is he always going to be out on a boat somewhere if you were trying to get him in an emergency?"

"Yes, I wondered that," Martin agreed. We both understood that these discussions were just between us and off the record, so we could say what we really thought, unlike in the formal interview, when you were not actually allowed to ask or comment about anything personal very much at all.

I moved on to the second candidate, Michelle Cox, who was returning from maternity leave and was looking for a part time role to fit around her family commitments.

"I thought she could potentially take on all the antenatal care and baby clinics with her experience," Martin suggested. "If she could be relied on to turn up that is, bound to have lots of child care issues, that kind of thing."

"That's a bit harsh, Martin," I snapped, thinking he was having a dig at me, remembering how I'd had to take days off from my job to look after James when my mother had been ill.

"Just being realistic, that's all," Martin responded.

The third candidate, John Phillips, seemed a bit of an odd one for a part time, small village GP role. He was in his early forties, and had recently retrained as a GP, after being an oncologist at the Royal Cornwall Hospital in Truro.

"Why did you short list this one?" I queried.

"Chris Parsons highly recommends him. Off the record, he told me that his wife was killed in a car accident, leaving him to bring up their kids on his own. So he's made the decision that he doesn't want to work full time while they're young," Martin elaborated.

"Oh, that is so sad," I exclaimed. "The poor man must have been heartbroken."

"Hmm. Not exactly sure what his child care arrangements are going to be either though, and of course we can't ask that at the interview."

"No, you must pick the successful candidate on merit alone, you can't discriminate against someone because of their personal circumstances, whether they be male or female," I agreed.

"Mustn't be seen to anyway," Martin muttered.

"Martin! You'll really get into trouble one of these days with attitudes like those," I scolded him, only too painfully aware of how he had tried to block me when I'd applied to be head teacher, thinking I'd be unable to cope with being a mum and working full time, despite the fact that I'd been the best candidate for the job. Of course the silly man didn't seem to realise that his over protective attitude just spurred me on to work even harder to prove him wrong.

As the date of the interviews approached, I looked forward with great interest to find out who the successful candidate would be.


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 29**

"And absolutely no 'Brilliant White' _anywhere_," Louisa insisted, as she discussed colour schemes for Havenhurst with me. "I think we should go for 'Peach Sorbet' in the living area, I really think it would make it warm and welcoming."

Quite frankly, I had so many other things to think about at the moment that it was far easier to just let Louisa get on and choose whatever colour schemes she wanted, if that would keep her happy. However, when it came to the kitchen and the bathrooms, despite Louisa fretting and worrying about the all the costs involved, I insisted that we had only the best quality appliances and equipment, as I had no intention of ever going through this kind of upheaval again.

And so, despite the 'drekly' attitude of the local workforce, phase one of the building and decorating work at Havenhurst was progressing. Phase two would be the less urgent work such as converting the barns to provide a garage and a granny annexe, which could be tackled at a later date.

**xXx**

My main concern at the moment was selecting my new practice partner. I'd been disappointed that there hadn't been a wider range of candidates to choose from, but according to Chris, we were lucky to have the selection that we did. He'd called in one afternoon when surgery had finished for his usual regular monthly catch up – I was pretty certain he used these meetings of ours as an excuse to escape from the confines of his office, and I think he would have liked us to maybe venture out to the local pub, but that was just not my kind of thing, as he was well aware.

"Well Mart, maybe now you can appreciate why we couldn't believe our luck to have a candidate of your calibre when you applied for the post," he informed me.

On paper at least, the chap who'd been the oncologist at Truro hospital seemed the best qualified candidate to me, with the other semi-retired GP from Surrey being my second choice, although Chris seemed to think the female candidate would be a good choice.

"Well she'd have to be a hell of a lot better than your last choice Chris, for me to seriously consider her. What on earth were you thinking when you appointed that incompetent waste of space Diana Dibbs?"

"We didn't have a lot of choice to be honest, and in our defence, at interview she came across as being very caring. We just thought that the villagers might appreciate someone with a bit more of a sympathetic bedside manner, after…well you know you are not exactly renowned for being the most friendly person Mart," Chris tried to justify their choice of candidate to me.

"I think any patient would prefer to consult a doctor who has at least some semblance of sound medical knowledge rather than one who just smiles ingratiatingly at them to cover up their ineptitude," I pointed out. "In any case, it needs to be someone that I can fully rely on and work with, as I will of course still be practising in the village for part of the week."

"Yes, and quite honestly that will probably present the most challenging aspect of all to selecting the successful candidate," Chris sighed.

"Are you suggesting that I'm difficult to work with? I simply strive to attain the very highest professional standards, and I don't think it unreasonable to expect the same of any colleague that I work alongside."

"Yes, of course, I understand that. Let's just wait and see how the candidates come across at interview shall we?"

He sat back in his chair, put the tips of his fingers together and looked hard at me for a minute.

"So…umm…how are things now, you know, on a more personal level?" he probed

"Fine," I answered. I thought Chris knew better than most that I was not one to bare my soul, but he wouldn't let things rest.

"We're old mates aren't we Mart? I mean, we go back a long way, so you know you can always talk to me in confidence, and all this is a huge change for you isn't? You're going from being a confirmed bachelor, living and working on your own, to being married, a father, working in two different environments, with new colleagues. So I just wondered how you really felt about it all."

"Yes, I am aware of all of these facts, and as I said, I'm fine," I stated uncomfortably. Chris might be the nearest thing I had to a 'mate', which was why I was Godfather to his daughter and he was Godfather to my son, but even so I preferred not to talk about 'feelings', even with him.

"You and Louisa, how are things going? It's no secret that you've had your fair share of ups and downs," Chris tried again.

He'd experienced for himself first-hand how prickly Louisa could be, when he'd mentioned at Joan's wake how my delayed departure would put off her having to fend for herself. Of course, Louisa had wasted no time in setting him right on that score, informing him in no uncertain terms that she was more than capable of managing without me.

I glared over at him as he leaned back in his chair on the other side of my desk. Short of being really rude to him, it was clear that he wasn't going to give up easily, as I suspected that he was under strict instructions from his wife to make sure that I was 'alright'. That would be typical of Jenny, just as I suspected that she had sent Chris round to check up on me when Louisa had left the village after our cancelled wedding. And I had to admit that Chris had been a very good friend to me over the years, helping me to find a way forward when my haemophobia struck in a way few others had, and now helping me again to get back into surgery.

"We're working on things. It's fair to say that we've both had a fair amount of adapting to do, but for our child's sake, we're both making a concerted effort this time," I finally told him.

"You're not just staying together for your boy's sake? Believe me I'm all for you working things out, but…"

"Look, however hard things get with this relationship business, I can honestly say, from personal experience, that being on my own is far, far worse. So I'll do whatever it takes to try and make things work with Louisa, for all our sakes. Having said that, at times I haven't got a bloody clue what on earth it is she expects from me, but I'm doing my best to attempt to learn."

"Ah yes, the old 'Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus' syndrome eh?" Chris smiled knowingly.

"What?"

"It's a book about relationships between men and women Martin. Perhaps you should read it, it's not half bad, considering it's written by an American," he suggested.

I looked at him as if he was stark raving mad for suggesting one of these dreadful self-help books of the type that Louisa was more likely to read. In fact I thought there was a good chance I'd seen it on her bookshelf, now I thought about it.

"Anyway, have you two actually set a date to get married yet?" he changed the subject.

We most certainly had, I thought to myself happily, just yesterday. However, we had agreed to keep it quiet for now, so I didn't answer straight away. But clearly my expression must have given the game away, as Chris started laughing.

"Oh come on, I can keep a secret, and I could really do with some good news for a change," Chris cajoled me.

"I really can't say. You will be informed in due course," I stated, but then relented as I saw the look on Chris' face. "Oh, alright, you…umm…might want to keep the fourth of April free."

"Splendid! I'll put that in my planner right now," he exclaimed as he took out his iPhone to enter the details. Chris loved gadgets, and always had the latest version of everything.

"But not a word to anyone Chris. And act surprised when Louisa tells you please?" I requested.

"Mum's the word, not a dicky bird to anyone," Chris agreed, as he shook my hand and took his leave.

**xXx**

Louisa and I had agreed that neither of us could face the prospect of getting married at the local parish church again. Apart from stirring up too many painful memories, it would also mean having to deal with the vile alcoholic Reverend Counter once more. I'd been flabbergasted to learn that he had apparently convinced the relevant authorities that he had recovered sufficiently to be able to resume his position at St Roger's. Of course I'd refused to even consider letting him officiate at Aunt Joan's funeral, and so had made other arrangements.

So Louisa researched on the internet for other options one evening as we sat together.

"Oh, I didn't know that! Apparently you can get married at The Slipway Hotel, right here in the village," she exclaimed.

"No thank you very much! I can just imagine the whole bloody village managing to blag their way in," I replied firmly.

"I didn't say that was where I wanted to get married, I was only commenting…" Louisa glared at me before turning her attention back to her iPad. "Let's see what else we can come up with."

"Of course The Castle Hotel does weddings, as we well know because we barged right in on one," she murmured, recalling how we'd been desperate to locate Mrs Tishell when she'd disappeared with James Henry.

I hadn't managed to find the right moment yet to tell Louisa about the letters I'd received from the woman, as she toured round Southend, Doncaster and Peterborough with her husband Clive on a recuperative holiday following her treatment. Apparently, so Ruth informed me, apart from corrective drugs, she'd also undergone numerous therapy and counselling sessions, and was now considered cured. Mrs Tishell claimed in her rambling letters to me that it had all been a terrible misunderstanding and that she was planning to return to her position in Portwenn in the near future. I had to admit that the unsatisfactory string of temporary replacements that had been drafted in during her absence had shown how efficient the woman had actually been, before her foolish and misguided descent into self-medicated paranoia.

However, I had had no option but to recommend to the relevant authorities that she should take early retirement on the grounds of ill health. The fact of the matter was that she could not be allowed to practice again. She had broken all the professional rules by self medicating, and I feared the temptation to re-offend would simply be too great for her to resist if she were to have unlimited access to drugs again. She did have her husband, irritating and annoying though he undoubtedly was, and at least he appeared to genuinely care for the woman and so would look after her in their retirement.

"The Castle Hotel is where we're holding the interview board. Maybe we could fit in a quick wedding afterwards, kill two birds with one stone," I suggested, quickly putting all thoughts of the Tishell woman and her creepy shrine to me out of my head.

Another glare from Louisa.

"I'll just assume that was your attempt at humour, shall I Martin?"

"Umm… yes, I suppose it was," I muttered, although it did occur to me that it would make very efficient use of my time.

"How about a nice luxury country hotel? Some of them offer a package with the wedding, reception and an overnight stay in the bridal suite all included," Louisa suggested.

"I quite like the sound of that. Of course it would have to be one that could provide facilities for the baby," I pointed out, thinking that the idea of spending our wedding night in a top quality, private hotel suite, away from the noisy neighbours here in the village was distinctly appealing.

"Yes, we could have a little honeymoon couldn't we, if James Henry behaved himself that is. But I just wouldn't want to leave him with anyone else, it wouldn't seem right somehow."

"No, I understand," I said, agreeing with Louisa that we should all be together. I knew that whoever we left him with, neither of us would relax properly if we were worried about our baby.

"Well, it seems that there are a couple of possible venues. I'll email and ask what availability they have, and if they could provide facilities for a baby in the bridal suite. I'm sure we won't be the first couple to ask about that these days," Louisa suggested. "Then we can make up our minds once we know what's possible."

"Yes, that sounds acceptable," I concurred. "And…err… don't forget, a date before the end of the fiscal year would be advantageous."

"Yes, of course Martin, I'll be sure to bear that in mind," Louisa said, as she rolled her eyes.

I decided to let the matter rest, and just wait and see what came up.

It turned out that there was only one place that could cater for a small private wedding such as ours that had suitable availability. It could provide a family suite that had an adjoining room for the baby, and as luck would have it, the only date they had available was the last day of the tax year. It seemed too providential not to act upon, so we agreed to go ahead and book the Pendragon Country House, which was located near Davidstow – not too far away, but sufficiently distant to prevent any nosy villagers from wandering in and gate crashing. I'd already insisted that our small private wedding was to be a strictly 'by invitation' event only.

As we lay together in bed that night, Louisa whispered softly to me in the dark.

"We are doing the right thing aren't we Martin?" she worried.

"Of _course_ we are. You're not having second thoughts are you?" I turned the bedside light on and anxiously turned to face her. Not now, not again, please dear God, I groaned to myself.

"No, no truly I'm not, but…it all seems too perfect. And whenever things seem too good to be true, in my experience they usually are." Louisa bit her lip nervously as she confided her worries to me.

"Louisa, you're just being silly. Just relax and be glad that we are finally about to get things right. I think it really is about time isn't it?"

"Yes, of course, of course I know you're right," Louisa tried to sound confident, but I could still detect the note of doubt in her voice.

"I'm not going to let you down. I'm always going to be there for you and for James, no matter what," I told her, as I took her in my arms and held her close, tenderly kissing the top of her head. I silently cursed her feckless parents for this blasted insecurity of hers that she normally managed to cover up so well.

"We are going to be good parents for our little boy aren't we Martin? I mean, I couldn't stand for him to be messed about. I want him to be happy and loved and…and secure."

"You have to trust that we are going to be good parents Louisa. We both want what's best for him, and we'll work together to make sure he's well brought up," I tried my best to reassure her.

"He's a very lucky boy isn't he? Growing up in a lovely home, wanting for nothing, but I don't want him to be spoiled, to take everything for granted."

"I agree. Good parenting with proper set rules and guidelines are essential."

"But not too strict. Lots of cuddles and affection, I want you to promise you'll make sure to do that."

"I'll try my best," I assured her as I gave her another hug. "I think I'm beginning to get the hang of it now."

"Yes, I really think you are," she murmured sleepily.

"So, are we good now? Can I get some sleep?"

I took the gentle little snore that was now emanating from her to be an answer in the affirmative, so I heaved a sigh of relief and finally let myself start drifting off to sleep again.

I had initially found her snoring to be irritating, but now I found it to be one of the nicest sounds I knew – certainly far better than the deafening silence that had descended over our bed when she had walked out with James, to leave me feeling by far the loneliest I had ever felt in my empty life before. So now Louisa snoring, or James crying, was quite simply music to my ears.

**A/N**_ Pendragon Country House at Davidstow Camelford is a real weddiing venue and looks wonderful - check it out on the web!_

_ Drekly - A Cornish expression meaning that t__hey might get it done in an hour , or they may get it done in 5 years, but they will eventually get it done!_


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 30**

When most couples argue about money, it's because they don't have any, or at least not enough to get by. That was certainly the way it had always been with my parents.

But with Martin and me, the arguments were caused by quite the opposite problem. I felt distinctly uncomfortable with the fact that he was prepared to pay for _everything_, he didn't expect me to contribute to _any_ of the building work on Havenhurst, and if he had his way, all he really wanted was for me to give up work and let him support me while I stayed at home and looked after the baby. Very reluctantly, he had accepted the fact that I loved my job and would continue as Head Teacher, but I was pretty certain that he would be trying his hardest to make me give up work for a while as a condition of us trying for another baby when it came time, because I had a sneaky feeling that this had in fact been the main motive for him agreeing to it.

I could just about manage to square things with myself with regard to the refurbishment of Havenhurst – I told myself that it was his family's property, it was his money that he was spending on it, and it could be seen as an investment that I was assured he could easily recoup by selling it. Neither could I really argue with the fact that Martin wanted to provide the best possible home for his son, and any future sibling that we might be lucky enough to have.

But the trouble was, it didn't stop there. I saw Martin looking at the latest glossy Lexus car brochure, obviously contemplating getting a new car on top of everything else.

"I'm well overdue a new car actually Louisa," he informed me. "After all, mine is an 08 plate. I don't normally leave it so long before upgrading, it's just that there have been so many other things going on."

"But Martin, your car is still like new, there's nothing wrong with it, so why on earth do you need to go to the expense of replacing it?" I asked incredulously.

"As a doctor on call, covering a large remote area, it is essential that I have a reliable car, so it is my responsibility to keep it up to date, and replace it before things start going wrong and causing problems. I've always found the Lexus range to be satisfactory, and as you are now going to need a car of your own too, I thought the new compact CT model would probably be the best choice for you. I should be able to negotiate a good deal for two cars."

Martin passed the brochure over for me to have a look.

"Good grief Martin, have you seen the price of it! I can't afford that, I was thinking more along the lines of a nice little second hand Ford Fiesta, or a Vauxhall Corsa maybe, they would be more in my price range," I told him.

"You don't have to worry about the cost Louisa, I'll take care of it. I really wouldn't be happy with you and James driving round in some tatty old banger, I'd feel much happier with you having a decent car with the highest safety specification."

"But I don't need anything fancy for driving round here. With all the narrow little lanes, I'd far rather have something small and not too valuable so that it won't matter if it gets the odd scrape or knock. I've been saving up, and that's what I can afford, so I don't need you to 'take care of it', thank you all the same," I insisted, feeling that Martin was overstepping the mark by trying to take control of everything now.

"I see. So how do you think I would feel if, God forbid, you and James were in an accident, and suffered injuries that could have been prevented in a better car? I'm simply treating you as an equal Louisa, in wishing to provide you with a similar standard of car to mine. I would have thought that would have appealed to your feminist leanings, being treated as an equal," Martin argued.

"Other far less expensive cars still have safety features, Martin. And in any case, you worry too much. I'm a very careful driver, I'll have you know," I insisted, and for now we let the matter drop as we were obviously not going to see eye to eye.

I knew a lot of women would think I was mad for rebelling against Martin's wish to buy me a brand new car, but it just went against the grain for me. I'd always paid my own way, ever since I'd been old enough to get a job. I'd had a paper round, I'd babysat, I'd worked in shops, in restaurants as a waitress, behind the bar in pubs - anything and everything that came my way. All through my school years, and then my student years, I'd worked to support myself, even as I'd slogged away to get the grades I needed to make something of myself, to get a decent career.

I'd paid for my own driving lessons, earning some extra lessons by babysitting for the driving instructors' children. I took great pride in never owing money to anyone, I'd always saved up for things I needed, never resorting to taking out a credit card as so many of my friends did, then ending up with a huge debt to try and pay off.

Holly, my friend at college in London, used to get a generous allowance from her parents, but still managed to run up large debts because of her penchant for shopping – but mummy and daddy had paid it off for her in the end. Of course I knew that my parents could never do that for me, so I simply learnt to live within my means.

I remember going out shopping with Holly in our final term at college, looking for outfits for the graduation ball. She'd insisted we go to Selfridges, which I knew was very unlikely to have anything in my price range, so I'd resigned myself to watching her try on some beautiful outfits, as usually happened when we went out shopping together.

As we were walking through the store, a gorgeous tan leather handbag caught my eye, and I couldn't help wandering over to look at it. I winced when I saw the price, and quickly put it back, but Holly had seen me admiring it.

"That bag is to die for, you have excellent taste," she agreed. "You have to buy it. Go on, treat yourself."

"No way, I haven't got that kind of money to splurge on a handbag," I stated, while still looking at it longingly. "But perhaps I could save up for it, as a special treat."

"Just take out a store card, then you could get it straight away, today," Holly urged me. She, of course, had numerous store cards, so she knew how easy it would be to get one there and then.

But I resisted. Instead I scrimped and saved even more than usual. And when the final exam results came out, and I discovered that I had achieved the top mark in my year, I decided that just for once I had earned the right to be a bit reckless. So I went back to Selfridges and bought the handbag that I had coveted. And it had turned out to be a very good investment, as I was still using that same handbag all these years later, and I still loved it every bit as much as I had that first day I'd spotted it.

**xXx**

James Henry always looked so completely adorable as he slept, and so I often found myself just watching him, marvelling at how perfect he was, still not quite able to believe that Martin and I had created this wonderful little person. That evening, as I stood looking into the cot to check the baby just before I went to bed, Martin came in and stood behind me, and also looked down at his sleeping son.

"You and James are my whole world now you know. I couldn't bear it if anything ever happened to either of you, especially if I could have done something more to protect you," he whispered in my ear as he slipped his arms round my waist from behind, and I realised that he still hadn't given up yet about the new car.

"You worry too much Martin. Car accidents are very rare," I tried to reassure him.

"In my career, I've seen far too many appalling injuries caused by car accidents _not_ to worry Louisa. Joy riders out in old bangers, ending up in pile ups, having to be cut out of the wreckage, leaving the medical staff trying their best to put them back together again. Don't let your misguided pride and sense of independence blind you to the realities of life. However good a driver you are, there's always the chance of some drunk lunatic driving into you. I am in the fortunate position of having sufficient funds to afford a decent car for you – so why not let me? What else should I spend my hard earned money on, if not the safety of my family?" Martin pleaded with me emotionally.

I turned to look at him, and thought that he looked almost haunted in his concern and worry for us. As James Henry stirred in his sleep, Martin leant over to gently feel the baby's cheek, reassuring himself, as he frequently did, that he was fine and not sickening in any way.

So what did I want? I'd hated it when I'd been pregnant and Martin hadn't seemed interested in his child, keeping his distance and seeming so cold and aloof from me. I couldn't deny that I'd pushed him away, but how else was I supposed to act when I'd discovered him ensconced with another woman on my return?

But all the while I'd been willing him to fight to try and win me back, to prove how much he still loved me, but he hadn't. Not until his baby had actually arrived was he finally prompted to act, and I still thought that if he hadn't been there when James Henry had been born, he might never have been jolted out of his stupor.

But now that Martin was acting in the very opposite manner, being almost too involved, too protective and controlling, I didn't like that either, and found myself wishing that he would back off a bit and give me a bit more space, which was why I thought that him working away part of the week could be a good thing for us.

I had to admit that it might appear to Martin that at times I was being fickle and capricious, because I didn't seem to know what I wanted from him. So I decided I had to try my best to somehow find a compromise with him.

"Look, I just don't think the fancy Lexus you suggested would be the right car for me, so how about we investigate what else there is that I might prefer, and then check out the safety ratings? And if it is more than I can afford, maybe then we'll see about you helping me out with the cost," I suggested.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to research other possible cars," he reluctantly agreed.

"Good, that's settled then." I turned round to hug him, glad that we had averted having a row over this – for now anyway. I put my arms around his waist, and reached up to kiss his cheek. Then I slid my hands under his top – upon my insistence, he now wore a much more relaxed T shirt type of top with his pyjama bottoms. I'd taken great delight in cutting up his dreadful buttoned up PJ tops into dusters, as just looking at them brought back unhappy memories of that time when he'd seemed so disinterested in me after James' birth. I took great delight in using these dusters for all the dirtiest jobs.

"Mmm, you smell very nice," I murmured into his ear, and then helped him to pull his top off as I then kissed and nibbled my way across his chest.

"Its…err…that new shower gel you bought me," he whispered back rather distractedly, as his hands started to explore under my silky pyjama top.

The shower gel was another of the little changes I'd introduced, trying to get Martin to be a bit more adventurous, as he was very set in his ways.

"Well I _really_ like it," I growled at him, as I took his hand and led him into our bedroom.

We both wasted no time in discarding the rest of our pyjamas and clambering into bed.

"I want you to do _exactly_ as I say," I insisted, for some reason feeling the need to be domineering, as I pushed him back on the bed and manoeuvred myself on top of him. Martin offered no resistance to my commands; he was more than happy to help me into position so that I straddled him, a position that was most definitely one of his favourites in any case.

"Yes, Louisa," he groaned, and I felt his hands grappling my bottom as he urgently tried to progress things. There was clearly no doubt as to the obvious state of his readiness, I was pleased to discover.

"Only when _I_ say so," I instructed, pulling away from him slightly to keep control.

Perhaps it was the need to prove that Martin wasn't in charge of _every _aspect of our lives that prompted me to act almost like a dominatrix that night. In any case, in this instance, Martin was more than happy to play along in a subservient role.

**xXx**

Colin Grant, our architect, had asked to meet us at Havenhurst to go over a few details with him, so we'd arranged that Martin would finish surgery a bit earlier than usual to pick me and James up after school and head on up there. I was of course very interested to see how things were progressing.

"So are you happy that James Henry is going to be having your old room when we move in?" I asked, as we drove the short distance.

"It seems appropriate," Martin stated, as he concentrated on his driving.

I really liked the idea of James having the room where his father had spent some of his youth with his Aunt Joan and Uncle Phil, one of the few places where it seemed that Martin had been happy, according to Ruth.

She was going be up at the farm too. She had been clearing out all the contents of the house, and wanted to hand some things over, and for Martin to see if he wanted any of his Uncle Phil's things that Ruth had come across in the barn.

Havenhurst looked like a proper building site as we pulled up. It was clad in scaffolding, there were building materials all over the place, workmen wandering around, and several vans and pickups parked haphazardly. The place looked a total mess, and at the moment it was hard to imagine how it was going to turn into our dream home.

Ruth appeared as I was leaning into the car to unstrap James.

"Can I quickly grab Martin to look at Phil's' things, because I've got to shoot off in a minute," she said, and so they wandered off in the direction of the barn as I carried James on my hip and wandered over towards the house to find the architect. In our dealings with Colin so far, I'd found him to be a very nice bloke – he was about the same age as me, friendly, easy to talk to and really seemed to know his stuff. It was good to know that he came highly recommended by Chris and Jenny Parsons too. He didn't even seem too fazed by Martin's brusque manner with him – he'd clearly developed the necessary interpersonal skills to deal with all sorts of very demanding clients in his line of work, no doubt mindful of the fact that 'he who pays the piper calls the tune'.

I heard a wolf whistle from one of the cheeky young workmen, who seemed pleased to see a female on the worksite.

"Oi, less of that, show a bit of respect, that's the big chief's missus," a man who was probably the foreman called out to the lad, as he smiled by way of apology to me.

I smiled back to show that I wasn't offended, because in fact I was actually quite flattered to draw a wolf whistle at my age.

Then I spotted Colin the architect, busily chatting with someone as they looked over the plans. Then he looked up, and waved at me to come over as he spotted me.

"Hi Louisa, glad you could make it. Martin not coming?" he queried.

"He's here, he'll be joining us in a minute," I replied. But then my jaw dropped as the person he was talking to turned round and I saw who it was.

"Lou! How the devil are you? It's been so long since we've spoken hasn't it? And this must be your little boy," Danny Steele said, as he kissed me on both cheeks and then made a fuss of James.

I was speechless at this totally unexpected encounter, not helped by the fact that Martin had now made his way over to join us, just in time to see Danny kissing me. His face looked like thunder, and clearly he was not at all happy. Somehow I couldn't see how this meeting was going to turn out to be anything but a disaster now.


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 31**

The period in my life when I'd feared Louisa was going to marry the architect had been a particularly miserable one. I'd had to watch them going about the village together, seemingly so well suited. Danny Steele was everything I wasn't; good looking, popular, charming, self-assured, affable, and easy going. He and Louisa had known each other since childhood, so of course they knew each other's family history and had lots of little stories that they could share, and I'd just felt like an outsider looking in as I'd watched them. I'd loathed and hated him then and it was no surprise for me to discover that nothing had changed because I loathed and hated him just as much now.

To see him kissing Louisa like that out of the blue brought all those feelings of insecurity back in an instant. Of course I realised that it was nothing more than a simple greeting kiss on the cheek, but it showed an easy confidence that I could never hope to emulate. And I also hated seeing him smarming up to James Henry – but my son appeared to be less than impressed by Danny's efforts, as he turned away and hid his face in Louisa's shoulder, and I felt inordinately proud of him for being such a good judge of character.

By the look of total surprise on Louisa's face, clearly she had had no idea that Danny would be here. I took a deep breath to try and get my feelings under control. Logically there was no reason for me to get so het up by a face from the past. Louisa had been the one to break things off with Danny back then; she and I were now in a serious relationship; we had a child together; we were getting married. Even so, I didn't trust myself to speak to the wretched creep, so the best I could manage was to completely ignore him and get on with the meeting that we'd come for with our architect.

But of course Danny wasn't one to be ignored, instead acting like a playful puppy as he bounded over to shake my hand declaring,

"Martin! Great to see you too! Small world isn't it? Sorry to hear about your Aunt Joan by the way. I know what it's like as my mum passed away last year too, but of course as her doctor you would have known all about that. Shame neither of you made it to her funeral," Danny said.

I had been informed of the demise of Muriel Steele from a stroke at Truro hospital as I was her GP, but I was not in the habit of attending funerals of my patients. I had certainly not wanted to attend any event that her dreadful son would be at, particularly as this had happened only a short while after Louisa had left the village, and I had been in no mood for any kind of a social gathering.

"Must have been when I was away. I was in London for while last year, you see," Louisa hastily explained. "Otherwise I would definitely have come and paid my respects. I liked your mum, she was a really lovely lady."

"Yea, she liked you too Lou. I know that she always hoped that we would…well anyway, that's all water under the bridge now isn't it? Clearly you two have got it together, and I'm getting married myself later this year. You'd love Zoe, she's the PA in our office in London, that's how we met of course."

"So, what brings you down to this neck of the woods then Danny?" Louisa enquired.

"Actually, I'm thinking about a change of direction for my career, that maybe it's about time I got out of London for good and set up somewhere more suitable, so that Zoe and I can settle down and raise a family, have a couple of kids. Like you and Martin, with your little'un."

Danny tried again with James, attempting to tickle him, but my son was having none of it as he turned away again and clung to his mother.

"He's going through a bit of a shy stage I'm afraid," Louisa offered apologetically by way of explanation. "But I still don't understand how come you're here, at Havenhurst?"

"Colin and I met up for lunch today – we were at uni together, and I've been hearing such great things about him that I thought it was about time he and I caught up. Seems he's discovered a nice little niche market in this part of the world, become somewhat of an expert in renovating and converting old barns and farm houses. And seeing as how things are so competitive and difficult in London these days, I've been thinking maybe I should take a leaf out of his book, try something similar," he explained.

I inwardly groaned at the thought of him moving back down here.

"Of course, this is Colin's patch, so I wouldn't dream of encroaching on his turf," he smiled. "Thought maybe I might give Wales a go, lots of rural properties there begging to be renovated."

I mentally heaved a sigh of relief – Wales was more than welcome to Danny Steele as far as I was concerned.

"But of course, if Colin were in need of a new partner, I'm sure he wouldn't have to twist my arm too hard," Danny then added as he flashed a smile at his old friend.

I looked over at Colin, who appeared rather embarrassed.

"Look, I hope you don't mind Danny tagging along this afternoon, it's just that I hadn't realised Danny was an old friend of yours until we got chatting about our latest projects over lunch today, and it turned out that he knew all about Havenhurst, as his mother was a very good friend of your aunt, Martin. Anyway, we really ought to get on with our meeting, can't stand around chatting all day when I know what a busy man you are," he explained.

Clearly Louisa didn't trust me to reply in a civil manner about Danny being an old friend, as she now piped up.

"No, no, of course we don't mind, do we Martin? It's always good to catch up with an old friend."

She glared over at me, and I managed to grunt some sort of a reply before turning to give Colin my full attention, as he started explaining the various options with regard to the windows for the loft conversion. I'd decided that while the roof was being replaced we might as well have the loft converted into usable space rather than possibly having to tackle it at a later date.

As we talked, I couldn't help stealing a glance over at Danny. He'd got a few silver streaks in his dark hair now, and appeared to have gained a few pounds round his middle, but otherwise he looked much the same. Whether he was trying to impress his friend or what I wasn't sure, but he kept butting in and offering his opinion on the best type of windows for Havenhurst in a most unwelcome and annoying way. Quite frankly he was the last person that I wanted advice from, but luckily Louisa stepped in before I said something to the annoying little twerp that I would probably have regretted.

"Danny, why don't we leave Colin and Martin to it with the finer details of the windows now that we've agreed where they should go, while you tell me all about this Zoe of yours?" she tactfully suggested as she led him away by the arm towards the garden, while shooting me a look that clearly told me to behave myself. I thought that was a bit harsh seeing as I felt I'd done extremely well to summon up enough self-control to enable me to resist the urge to tell him to bloody well shut up and just piss off several times now.

**xXx**

The atmosphere in the car on the way back was somewhat strained between us as I struggled to control what I knew were illogical feelings of jealousy brought about by having to watch Louisa laugh and joke with that tosser while I'd concluded the meeting with Colin.

"I'm surprised to hear that you didn't go to Muriel's funeral," Louisa stated.

"She was a patient. Patients die all the time, and I simply can't be expected to attend every funeral," I pointed out. Truth of the matter was wild horses couldn't have dragged me to that one, even though at the time Joan had also seemed to think that I should accompany her.

"Nice to hear that Danny is settling down and getting married," Louisa said next.

I didn't make any comment, but I pitied the poor woman.

"Hasn't changed much has he?" she mused.

"He's put on a few pounds. He wants to watch that, otherwise he'll be a prime candidate for a coronary infarction in a few years," I pointed out.

"Oh Martin! Can't you ever say anything nice?" Louisa sighed and gave up any further attempt at conversation.

We got back and Louisa busied herself with sorting James out while I prepared our meal – it didn't take long to quickly grill the fish and prepare some salad to go with it.

"What were in the boxes that Ruth wanted to show you?" Louisa enquired as we sat round the table, James in his high chair.

"Lots of old plates and china of Joan's, just junk mostly, so I said it could all go with the rest of the house clearance items," I informed her. Most of Joan's furniture was not worth keeping and so was being collected for disposal next week.

"Oh I might like some of those, I think it would be nice to have some of Joan's things in the new kitchen, so please don't get rid of them yet," Louisa pleaded.

"As you wish. You'd best let Ruth know then. I didn't think we wanted to clutter up the new place with bric-a-brac."

"Neither do we want it to look cold and clinical," Louisa stated, re opening the on-going debate between us about the style of decorating for Havenhurst.

"There were also some items of Phil's that I said could go too, I have no need of his tools or equipment, apart from the set of tools he used to use for mending clocks, I'd thought I'd keep those," I added.

"Did Phil teach you about mending clocks then? I always assumed it must have been your father or even your grandfather," Louisa said curiously.

"Good God no! They never had time to show me anything like that."

No, it had been dear, kind, patient Uncle Phil who had sat down with me at the kitchen table in the evenings when I stayed with them, once he realised that I had a natural talent for mending tiny complicated workings, even if I had been useless at other tasks on the farm such as tending the animals, because they always seemed dirty, smelly and rather scary to me.

I had let Louisa persuade me that we should keep that big old oak kitchen table, as apparently it was exactly the kind of thing that the retro chic designers were all desperate to get their hands on now, so she'd informed me as she'd shown me a picture of something similar in one of her magazines.

And so as we'd chatted companionably, I thought we'd managed to gloss over the unwelcome intrusion of today's face from the past, and was just congratulating myself on managing to keep my cool, when Louisa dropped her bombshell, once James was safely tucked up in bed.

"You don't mind watching James while I pop out for a while do you?"

I knew Louisa was up to something because she was biting her bottom lip nervously.

"Pop out where exactly?" I asked suspiciously.

"Look, don't make a fuss, I just said I'd meet Danny for a quick drink at the pub, just for old times' sake. You were invited too, but I know how you hate anything like that, so I thought you could mind James," she explained, tilting her head and looking me in the eye defiantly.

"No, Louisa absolutely not! Why on earth would you think it a good idea to meet up with that…that…irritating little arse?"

Suddenly all the feelings that I'd managed, with superhuman effort, to keep under control earlier now surged through me. Jealous rage poured through my veins and put terrible pictures in my mind.

"He's just an old friend that I grew up with…" Louisa started to argue, but by now I'd lost the plot, as nasty thoughts and words tumbled out.

"Oh but he's more than that isn't he eh? He was your first lover, that's what you told me at Christmas wasn't it?," I raged, unable to stop myself even though I knew I was being completely unreasonable.

"Martin…" Louisa was clearly shocked by my horrid words.

"How do you think that makes me feel eh? Seeing you go off for a cosy drink with lover boy?"

"Well pretty much how I felt seeing you with Edith I imagine," Louisa spat back at me. "Except that was worse because I had to let your ex fiancée doctor examine me, let her question me about our sex life as she implied that I'd seduced you to get myself pregnant. She even implied that I was lying about you being the father because she said the baby was too small for dates when she did the scan. So how do you think that felt Mr High and Mighty hmm?"

"That was different. Edith was just doing her job, she is a professional…"

"Oh I might have known you'd defend her, take her side."

"Now you're just being ridiculous. And this isn't about Edith is it? It's about you meeting up with that…that…tosser."

"So what exactly do you think is going to happen Martin? Do you think we've booked a room at the pub so that we can nip upstairs for a quick shag for old times sake? Is that what you really think of me, that you don't even trust me for one evening?"

"No, I…just…I don't understand why on earth you want to see him again."

"He's a friend. We go back a long way. I've known him since we were five years old."

"I don't care. I don't care how long you've known him. You're with me now, and I forbid you to see him Louisa."

As soon as the words had left my lips, I instantly regretted uttering them and wished that I could take them back. But it was too late, the damage had been done as Louisa looked at me in astonishment.

"I beg your pardon? What did you just say? You '_forbid _me'? Who the hell do you think you are? We're not even married yet, and you're trying to control me like some Victorian husband. Well, let's get a few things straight Martin. I will see _whoever_ I want, _wherever_ I want, _whenever_ I want and nothing you say or do will ever change that. And if you don't like it, then I suggest you have your bags packed ready to leave when I get back."

With that Louisa picked up her handbag, and stormed out of the cottage, slamming the door behind her.


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 32**

I was so incensed by Martin's behaviour that I'd stormed out of the cottage before I really needed to leave, so now I was going to be rather early for my drink with Danny. As I headed down the hill towards the pub, I saw Ruth approaching.

"Ah Louisa, glad I caught you, sorry I had to rush off from Havenhurst earlier…" she started to say, but I cut her short.

"Sorry, can't stop. You'll find Martin at home though," I stated as I carried on walking. Well she was often pretty short with people, so she shouldn't take offence at being treated in the same manner. I was in no mood for any kind of a chat with her at the moment.

But as I reached the pub, I realised that I had to calm down and pull myself together unless I wanted to add more fuel to the fire of gossip that always followed Martin and I around, as the village always seemed to find us a very fascinating topic for some reason.

Neither did I want to say anything to Danny about the row that Martin and I had just had, seeing as he was basically the cause of it. Well Martin's attitude to Danny was the cause of it really.

So I ordered myself a nice glass of chilled Chablis, then sat myself in the corner of the pub to wait for Danny, and replayed in my mind what had just taken place between Martin and I.

He never normally minded in the least if I went out without him to meet friends in the evening. He was always quite happy to mind James, as long as he wasn't on call. He'd never really shown any kind of a jealous streak at all before– until Danny had shown up today, and it was now quite apparent that Martin had a real problem with him.

Of course I'd been shocked to see Danny up at Havenhurst completely out of the blue like that, especially as we hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms previously. But when you go back as far as Danny and I did, it was hard not be glad to see an old friend, despite everything. And clearly he didn't hold any kind of a grudge against me for breaking things off with him, he was just the same old easy going, friendly Danny.

But Martin had never liked Danny. When he'd been back in the village that time and had tried to re kindle things between us, I'd been quite pleased when I'd thought that I maybe detected some sort of a jealous reaction from Martin when he'd seen me with Danny, because that meant he must have some feelings for me, and at that time I was desperate for any sign.

But the way that Martin had reacted tonight was way, way over the top. How could he speak to me like that? Even my father had never 'forbidden' me to see anyone, and to me it was just proof of his antiquated views and low opinion regarding equality of women. We both had a past, nothing could change what had happened before we had even met, so he just had to get over the fact that Danny had been my first boyfriend. That he had been a very inexperienced and pretty inept lover compared to Martin was not something that I had shared with him, just as I had no wish to know any of the details of whatever had occurred between Edith and him when they had been lovers at Medical School.

I looked up as Danny made his way into the pub and tried to spot me.

'Over here,' I called as I stood up and waved. Danny came over and pecked me on the cheek, and it felt rather odd as he was quite a short man, not that much taller than me. I was used to Martin, who was such a big, tall man. I really loved that about him, the fact that I had to reach up on tip toe to kiss him.

"Lou, so glad you agreed to meet up for old times' sake, to show there are no hard feelings between us. No Martin?" he enquired.

"No, he's minding James. Not really one for the pub I'm afraid," I explained.

"Well that's a shame. I wanted to hear all the news from both of you," he said.

But it turned out that wasn't quite true. All Danny really wanted to talk about was himself. Me, me, me. How things hadn't worked out so well for him in London after all, but of course it wasn't his fault, it was the economic downturn, the recession, the banks refusing to lend. How his partners had been so unreasonable and inflexible in refusing to take on any kind of slightly risky enterprise.

"They're so short sighted, they don't seem to understand that sometimes you just have to go for it, take a bit of a chance, speculate to accumulate," he said.

I couldn't help thinking that Martin never took financial risks, but had still managed to become impressively secure in his finances.

"What about your beliefs, are you still a practising Christian?" I enquired curiously.

"Oh, all that 'God stuff' was just a fad I went through actually. Bit embarrassing, but there you are," Danny grinned and shrugged as he poured himself another glass of wine. He was putting them away at a fair rate I noted. I was still sipping my first glass, mindful of the fact that a hangover was not a good idea when I had a job and a baby to cope with in the morning, and that alcohol in excess was really not good for you. Good grief, I thought to myself, I was actually beginning to think just like Martin!

As I looked more closely at Danny, I noticed that his eyes were a bit puffy and blood shot, and that he had indeed put a bit of weight on around his middle, just as Martin had observed. He was beginning to let himself go it seemed, and was in danger of turning into one of those dreadful paunchy middle aged men if he carried on the way he was.

"So, tell me a bit more about this girlfriend of yours," I asked, curious to know a bit more.

"Zoe? Here, let me show you some pictures," Danny said as he pulled out his phone and brought up some pictures of a very pretty, but rather young looking girl.

"Oh she looks lovely Danny. Is she…umm…a bit younger than you?" I enquired, trying to be tactful.

"Yes, she's a babe isn't she? Just had her twenty first birthday actually. She was such a support to me when I broke up with Chloe," Danny replied as he gazed adoringly at the pictures.

I did my best to conceal my shock – Danny was the same age as me, thirty eight, and his girlfriend was only just twenty one.

"Sorry, who's Chloe?" I asked, confused.

"One of the partners in our practice. I was engaged to her before Zoe, but she turned out to be such a bitch, took all the credit for everything we worked on together. Zoe is such a sweet thing, she made me realise that marrying Chloe would have been a total disaster," Danny explained.

I thought that I had heard more than enough of Danny's complicated love life, so I changed the subject and asked him about his plans to set up his own architectural practice.

"Well actually I'm a bit peed off with Colin to tell you the truth. The word is that he's doing so well down here in Cornwall that he's looking to take on a partner, and I thought it would be just perfect for me. I mean, I know the area, I'm experienced, we're old mates from uni – what more could he ask for? I thought he'd bite my hand off, but he went all evasive on me, said he had other people in mind, and that he felt I'd be more suited to setting up on my own. He suggested Wales, or even Scotland, there'd be some proper castles to get stuck into up there. Maybe he's right, maybe I'm better off not depending on other people, having them take all the credit for my ideas and hard work."

Suddenly everything became clear. Danny hadn't changed one bit. He still didn't really know what he wanted, he was still as shallow and unreliable as ever, with his head stuck up in the clouds, under the illusion that he was far more talented than he really was. I expect Colin had heard all about Danny via the professional grapevine, and so didn't want to risk his successful business by taking on a potential liability like him.

So now, not only was Danny once again restless and drifting career wise, he was also with a naïve young girl, who was in reality probably nothing more than the office junior, flattered by Danny's attention and easily impressed by his smooth talking ways.

Sitting here listening to Danny waffling on about how great he was, only served to reinforce my belief that Martin, for all his difficult ways, was a hundred times the man that Danny would ever be. Of course I realised that Martin's outrageous jealous tirade had been brought on because he felt insecure around Danny, but he really had absolutely no reason to feel that way, and if we were ever going to sort things out between us, I would have to find a way to convince him of that.

I found myself looking at my watch. I was still furious with Martin and determined to leave him to stew a bit longer by not going home just yet, but I wasn't sure how much more of Danny I could stick. But as time went on, I realised that he'd had more than enough to drink and that we really should call it a night, and so I offered to call him a taxi.

"No, no need for that, I've only had a couple. I'm fine to drive," he insisted.

I'd noticed Joe Penhale in the pub earlier, and it seemed he'd been keeping an eye on things, as he now intervened.

"I've been observing you Danny, and I have grounds to believe that you are over the drink drive limit, so I shall be forced to take your car keys from you if you attempt to get in your car and drive."

"Oh Joe, don't be such an old woman, I'm fine," Danny tried to joke.

"It's no joke Danny. Anyone caught drink driving will be banned from the road for at least twelve months, and fined up to £5,000, and you could even go to prison for six months," Joe sternly lectured.

"Let's just call you a cab," I urged, wishing to avoid any kind of a scene as people were now starting to watch what was going on with some interest.

"Oh alright, but it seems a bit over the top to me," Danny reluctantly agreed, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

Once we'd got him safely packed into a taxi and on his way, Joe turned to me.

"Nice work Louisa, cos I really don't think the Doc would have appreciated being called out to do a blood test on Danny to assess if he was over the limit would he?" he winked at me.

No, that really would have been the icing on the cake I thought, as I made my way back to face Martin.


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 33**

Louisa slamming the door as she left had set James off crying as he'd only just been put down, so I headed upstairs to settle him again.

As I held him in my arms and gently rocked him, my temper cooled and I found myself confiding in him.

"Why on earth did I just try and forbid your mother to go out James Henry? What kind of an idiot am I? I should have just kept my wretched temper under control, whatever provocation there was."

James just snuggled into my shoulder and sucked his thumb while clutching his blanket.

"But you saw for yourself what a slimy little creep that Danny Steele is. I mean, why on earth does she feel the need to go and see him? Is it because she feels somehow trapped here with me?" I pondered, as I recalled how she'd let slip that she envied her mother going out on a date when she'd been staying with us.

James heaved a big sigh and wriggled a bit in my arms to get more comfy.

"I know it's illogical, but I just can't bear the thought of her even being near him, not when…well let's just say they have history. People think I'm cold and uncaring, but I'm really not. Well not when it comes to your mother, James. But I have the unerring knack of always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, a trait I hope to God you haven't inherited young man."

James looked up at me with his big blue eyes, so trusting and without any kind of guile. He hadn't learnt to be manipulative or deceitful, his needs and motives were open and honest and I could understand them. Although I didn't always understand his mother, I did understand that right now she was very upset and angry with me.

Then I heard the doorbell ring, and I groaned at the thought of a wretched villager looking for medical help, assuming as ever that just because I was here in the village, I was available 24/7. That would be another benefit of moving up to Havenhurst – well that was if we still were, because Louisa had told me to pack my bags if I didn't agree with her going out, and I really wasn't sure how serious she'd been about it, or whether she'd just spoken out in the heat of the moment.

I took James downstairs with me and opened the front door to see Ruth standing there with a slightly quizzical look on her face.

"Sorry I had to rush off earlier this afternoon up at the farm, I had a wretched dentists appointment. I thought I'd pop round now because I've got some papers concerning Havenhurst for you to read through," she explained, before she queried, "Is everything alright?"

"Fine. Why wouldn't it be?" I lied, as I let her in.

"Well I've just seen Louisa marching down the hill looking pretty cross, and she cut me short too. Martin, have you two had a row?"

As an expert in reading body language, I realised that it was pretty pointless trying to lie to my aunt.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that we have," I reluctantly admitted.

"About?"

"I really don't want to discuss it. I need to put James to bed now," I stated, as James was dozing off on my shoulder.

"That's OK. I can wait, I'm not going anywhere," Aunt Ruth said, as she came in and plonked herself down at the little table in the living area.

So once I'd put James down, I came and sat with my aunt.

"Right then, what's this all about?" she asked, in her usual no nonsense manner, reminding me so much of Joan. But as Ruth was used to dealing with criminal psychopaths, she was even better at wheedling things out from people than her sister had been.

"We had a disagreement over…I didn't think she should…it's all because of that bloody Danny Steele!" I said with some feeling.

"I see. And who exactly is this Danny Steele?"

"Louisa's ex. He turned up out of the blue today up at Havenhurst, it appears he's an old friend of Colin, our architect. And now Louisa's gone to meet him down at the pub, 'for old times' sake'. "

"And you aren't happy about this I take it?" Ruth probed.

"No, I'm not! He's a creep and I simply don't understand why she feels the need to spend any time with him whatsoever, especially as I made my objections very clear to her. But of course, being Louisa, she just went anyway."

"And exactly how did you make clear your objections, may I ask?"

I squirmed in my seat, embarrassed by my actions.

"I admit that I may not have handled the matter in an ideal way," I conceded.

"What exactly did you say Martin?" Ruth persisted.

"I may have…well I was acting under extreme provocation…"

"Martin, just spit it out. You're never going to be able to sort things out if you don't face up to your actions and their consequences," Ruth stated.

"I told her that she was with me now and that I forbade her to see him," I finally admitted.

"Ah, now I can see why Louisa was so angry. And why you left her little option but to go ahead and meet him, backing her into a corner like that."

"Well if she'd been more reasonable in the first place, it wouldn't have come to that," I tried to excuse myself.

"These feelings of extreme jealousy that you experienced, do you think it's because you're worried she still has feelings for this Danny, and that she prefers him over you? Do you fear that she is going to run off with him?"

I thought about this for a minute. Rationally, sensibly, no, I didn't. But a little demon inside my head was constantly reminding me that I wasn't worthy of a woman like Louisa.

I sighed.

"No, not really, but it's just so hard to believe that she really wants to be with a difficult man like me." I admitted.

"Oh Martin. Now that I've got to know Louisa a bit better, it strikes me that no one could influence a strong minded woman like her against you when she has made it very clear that she wants to be with you. So where's the harm in her meeting up with an old friend?"

"I just hate him. I hate him touching her or even being near her…" I said vehemently, disclosing the depth of my hatred.

"But your possessive and jealous actions have only served to push her closer to him, you must surely see that. It's actually very destructive behaviour, I'm sorry to say."

"So what should I have done then? Just pretended to be happy about it and given her my blessing? What's your magical solution?" I asked bitterly.

"There are no 'Happy Ever After' magic solutions Martin. All I can say is by all means be honest and tell her calmly how you feel about her meeting up with someone you aren't keen on, but you have to accept that she has a free will of her own to choose whether to see them or not. You can't hold on to a person against their will, they have to be with you because they want to be. Just remember the old adage '_If you love someone __let them go, if they return they're forever yours_'."

** xXx**

Finally I heard Louisa's key in the front door. It wasn't actually that late, but the time had dragged once Ruth had left and I'd been left waiting for Louisa to get back. I was sitting at the table, looking through the paperwork that Ruth had left, but I was finding it hard to concentrate.

She didn't say anything at first when she came in, but just came and sat opposite me at the table.

Then we both spoke at once.

"I'm sorry…" we both started to say.

"You first," Louisa prompted.

"I apologise for the way I spoke to you Louisa. It was inappropriate, and I should have kept my temper in check."

"Yes, you should. Never speak to me like that again Martin, or try to 'forbid' me to do anything. But I apologise too, for telling you to pack your bags. That wasn't a nice thing to say. I didn't mean it, and I too should have kept my temper in check."

"So you don't want me to move out?"

"No Martin, I don't. But we can't keep doing this can we? Having these silly rows like a pair of teenagers. It's ridiculous at our age, we should be able to sit and talk things through calmly and rationally like the adults we are."

"Yes, I agree, we do need to talk things through more," I said, just crossing my fingers that Louisa wasn't going to suggest something like couple counselling - Ruth had once more mooted this idea to me this evening. I'd far rather force myself to step out of my comfort zone and open up to Louisa, than have to discuss our personal life with a complete stranger. So as I'd sat here this evening by myself thinking things through, I'd decided that I was going to have to make a real concerted effort this time - if Louisa would just give me the opportunity.

"You do? You actually _want_ us to talk?" Louisa asked me somewhat incredulously.

"Yes. I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy, so that you'll want to stay with me, and not with be anyone else," I said rather emotionally, as I reached across to take her hand in mine. "I'll really try my best to open up to you more, if you will just trust me enough to do the same."

"Oh Martin, you're so 'all or nothing' aren't you? There is an in between you know. You do understand that there was absolutely no need for you to be jealous just because I went for a drink with Danny tonight? Seeing him doesn't instantly mean that I want to run off and be with him. I simply enjoy seeing all sorts of different friends, because I find it interesting to hear what they've been up to. Martin, as partners and lovers, about to tie the knot together, surely you trust me by now? Because if you don't, there really isn't much hope for us."

When I thought of the wonderful, special closeness and intimacy that we frequently shared as lovers these days, and how many times we'd professed our love for each other, it made me ashamed all over again for my actions as I realised how petty and unreasonable I'd been in my actions.

"Of course I trust you, and I apologise if my behaviour implied otherwise Louisa. It's just …_him_… he brings out the worst in me, makes me behave illogically, and I really can't explain why he gets to me so much," I tried to explain lamely.

"It's _you_ that I love Martin, not him. That's the way it's always been, and always will be I'm afraid. So you're stuck with me," Louisa said as she reached her hand over to brush her fingers against my cheek, and I took hold of her hand to kiss it, as I closed my eyes in relief at her words.

"In any case, I think you might be pleased to hear that seeing Danny again tonight just reminded me what an absolute twonk he is."

"Really?" My spirits rose somewhat at these words.

"He still doesn't live in the real world, he's still drifting from one thing to another in his career, sure that this time it's what he really wants. Now he's resorted to being with some poor naïve young twenty something who he can still impress because she hasn't seen through him yet, as it seems his previous fiancée must have done. Oh and he drinks too much, which I can't stand. He nearly made a right idiot of himself with Joe Penhale at the pub by insisting that he was going to drive himself back, but thank goodness we managed to get him into a taxi instead. No doubt you'll be hearing all about that from the village gossips tomorrow, just to warn you," Louisa informed me.

"Oh goody, everyone wanting to talk about Danny Steele. What joy, I can't wait," I muttered. No doubt the rumour mill would be going into overdrive in any case, all about how Louisa had been seen out with her ex, that really nice architect chap, so much nicer than that tosser Doc Martin.

"Look Martin, you are a _hundred_ times the man he will ever be, and all I could think about while he was boasting and bragging was thanking my lucky stars that it was you I was marrying and not him," Louisa said, as she squeezed my hand. "So there really was no reason for you to be so jealous and make such a fuss about me seeing him was there?"

"No, I can see that now I suppose, so I can only apologise once again and assure you that I'll try my best not to be such an idiot in the future," I said. "Umm…while we're clearing the air on the subject of jealousy, can I ask why you keep bringing up the subject of Edith, and throwing accusations around about her?"

"Well I'd have thought that was pretty obvious," Louisa snorted as she rolled her eyes.

"No, not to me it isn't. I spent time with her as a colleague, nothing more."

"So you're telling me that there was never any sort of a romantic interlude between Edith and her 'Ellingham'," she sneered disbelievingly.

Louisa had always called me 'Martin', never 'Ellingham' and seemed to think it odd to refer to people by their surnames, but at the schools I attended, and then in the medical profession, it was quite standard practice.

"Certainly not on my part, no. I do admit that because you and I were not in a relationship at that time, meaning technically that I was single, I did briefly consider whether a relationship with Edith was feasible, as we shared such similar interests. But I quickly realised that it simply wasn't possible, because…well because she wasn't _you_. I never stopped loving you, you see. So she never stood a chance."

"I've just always felt…always wondered…if you only chose to be with me in the end because of the baby," Louisa confessed.

"No! It's not like that at all," I insisted, horrified that Louisa should think that way. "But I do feel that having James Henry just makes it all the more important that we sort things out between us for once and for all. I love _you_ Louisa, and it's _you _I want to spend the rest of my life with. I am not interested in any way whatsoever in Edith. There, is that clear enough for you?"

"Yes Martin, and I can say the same too. It's _you_ I love, not Danny and all I want is for us to be together."

I stood up and pulled Louisa up too so that I could take her in my arms.

"So then please will you just relax and let me look after you?" I pleaded. "Because I'm actually finding that I really enjoy caring for you, but sometimes you seem to resent it, because you're so determined to be independent."

"I'll try Martin, but you have to understand that caring doesn't mean just taking over and making all the decisions for us. Being part of a couple means having lots of discussions and talking things through, finding out my opinion and what I would prefer. Otherwise I just feel as if I have no control over my life, which I hate. I've always stood on my own two feet, and I don't see why being married has to change everything."

"Well maybe you need to learn to really trust me, because I'm not going to let you down like your father obviously did time after time. That's where a lot of this all stems from isn't it?"

I felt Louisa stiffen in my arms as I said this, and I wondered if I'd pushed things too far. But I was sure this was the case, and if we were opening up and being totally honest with each other, I felt it needed to be said.

"If you mean that I learnt from a very young age not to rely on dad, not to believe a word that he said, then yes, I suppose you could be right. And of course it didn't help that mum ran off and abandoned us. So I learnt pretty early on that it was best never to be too dependent on other people because if you don't expect too much, you don't end up too disappointed. But I do know that my dad did always love me, he was always very affectionate and loving in his own way. Which I gather your parents weren't at all Martin, which has undoubtedly affected you and made it so hard for you to show your feelings to me."

I took a deep breath as I resisted repeating my usual response, the one where I claimed that there had been nothing wrong with my upbringing, that there was nothing wrong with being left to cry, being ignored, or being beaten, or shut in the cupboard under the stairs. The thought of my son being treated in that way was so abhorrent to me, that now I couldn't conceive how my parents had possibly thought it acceptable.

"Yes alright, I concede that may well be the case," I sighed, as I acknowledged the truth in what she said. "I realise now that they truly were appalling parents, which is why I'm so determined to be nothing like my father. But you and James Henry are changing me aren't you? I mean, I have changed a bit already haven't I, for the better I mean?"

"It's not a case of changing Martin, I really don't want you to change. All I want is for the _real_ you, the kind, decent, loving you that I've always known is there, to be allowed to come out. I just want you to show me and James more of that side of you, that's all."

With that, Louisa stood on tip toe to kiss me on the lips.

"I love that you have felt able to talk to me so freely tonight. This really is the way forward for us Martin, don't you think? And it hasn't been so painful has it?"

"No, actually it hasn't," I found myself agreeing, much to my surprise. It actually felt pretty good to talk honestly and finally get a few skeletons out of the cupboard. Louisa hadn't laughed at me, or belittled me and it felt really good to know that she was just happy to listen to me as no one really had before.

"Look, after what you've told me, I can't promise to ever like Edith, but I'm not going to worry about her any more. So if you bumped into her one day and went for a drink together, I wouldn't mind. As long as you tell her frequently how wonderfully, blissfully happy you are with me," she joked.

"Hmm. I really have no interest whatsoever in seeing her again, but I appreciate the sentiment. I don't know that I could ever be happy about you seeing Danny again, but I promise not to make such a song and dance about it should the occasion arise. As long as you make sure to drop a few hints to him about what a fantastic lover I am," I cheekily suggested.

"Then you'd better start convincing me on that score Martin Ellingham," Louisa grinned, as she took me by the hand and led me upstairs.


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.**

**Happy Ever After – The Real World**

**Chapter 34**

For me there was no doubt about which candidate to select to be the new GP partner at my surgery. Aside from all the usual banal and politically correct questions that the other members of the interview panel felt obliged to ask, I outlined to each of the three candidates in turn the situation that I had recently found myself in with regard to Louisa's mother and her strangulated hernia, how she had needed urgent surgical intervention, but how the ambulance had gone to the wrong village. I then asked each of them how they would handle such a situation.

Brendan Taylor, the retired GP from Surrey, strongly advocated waiting for the second ambulance to arrive, stating with confidence that it was far too risky to undertake any kind of surgery anywhere other than in a properly prepared sterile hospital theatre, in the hands of a skilled surgeon. No doubt where he was from in Surrey, that probably was the logical answer, as the hospital was nearby and another ambulance could be there in a very short time. He didn't seem to have grasped the remoteness of Portwenn, how the long delay involved in waiting for another ambulance could cost the patient's life. I imagined that as one of eight GP's, along with a team of practice nurses and midwives, there hadn't been much call for him to act on his own initiative or to undertake anything particularly risky in his previous role. I think he was under the impression that very little happened in the village, and so his services would hardly be required, certainly not for anything too taxing, thereby leaving him free most of the time to go fishing and sailing.

Michelle Cox, the candidate just returning from maternity leave, was full of confidence as she chatted about how she liked to get close to her patients, get to really know them etc. etc., but then dithered and prevaricated over her answer to my medical scenario question for so long that in the end I wasn't sure what her answer actually was, something about getting a second opinion I think. In a rural environment like Portwenn, it was all very well being everyone's 'friend', but when it came to medical emergencies, you had to be decisive and confident as there was little by way of back up. The GP in Portwenn had to be able to stand on their own two feet.

John Phillips, the former Oncologist at the Royal Cornwall was the only one of the three who answered that he would operate on the patient right there in the surgery, just as I had done. Of course he did clarify that it was risky, that he would do everything to ensure that the conditions were as sterile as possible, but that on balance it was the patient's best option for a favourable outcome. My views exactly, so without hesitation, he was my preferred candidate, despite the fact that unlike the other two candidates, he didn't volunteer much personal information and came over as quietly spoken and rather reticent in comparison.

Undoubtedly this made him less popular with the other members of the interview panel, as apart from Chris, as they all seemed to have forgotten that the most important requirement for a GP was actual medical competence, rather than being 'friendly' 'approachable' and 'sociable'.

After quite a long debate about the various merits of all three candidates, I could feel myself getting frustrated and short tempered as we appeared to be going round in circles, and I raised my eyebrows at Chris, the Chairman, to indicate that I felt that we needed to just get on with things.

"Well ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure we could go on discussing the various merits of the three excellent candidates all day, so I suggest that we cut to the chase and put it to a vote. In the case of a tie, may I remind you that we have all agreed that Doctor Ellingham has the casting vote, as of course he will be the one who has to work on a day to day basis with his new partner."

There were various murmurings around the table from the other members of the panel before Chris called out the names and asked for votes.

It came as no great surprise to me that the two female members, Gwen Stevens, District Nurse Coordinator, and Nicola Bedale, Social Services Administrator, voted for Michelle Cox, having several times made the point about how the village would appreciate her excellent bedside manner and sympathetic patient skills.

Nor was I surprised that the lay members of the panel, Giles Brown, Head of Portwenn Lifeboat Crew and Michael Grey, Secretary of Portwenn Sailing Club voted without hesitation for Brendan Taylor, having got on with him like a house on fire once they discovered their mutual love of fishing and sailing.

Chris and I were the only logical and sensible ones who voted for the best _medical_ candidate – John Phillips.

So that meant there were two votes for each candidate. But as I held the casting vote, it meant that my choice, John Phillips, was the successful candidate. I heaved a huge sigh of relief, as he was the only one I felt remotely confident that I could develop a good working relationship with, or that I was happy entrusting the care of the villagers to – which of course included Louisa and James Henry – in my absence.

Afterwards, once John had been called in and advised that he was the successful candidate and had verbally accepted the position, we shook hands.

"Thought I'd messed things up with my answer to your hyperthetical strangulated hernia case, when the other two told me how they'd answered. Thought maybe I'd been a bit too radical, you know?" he confessed.

"No, your response to that scenario is what got you the position. It wasn't a hypothetical question, that was actually the situation I was in a short while ago, and I went ahead and operated right there in my surgery," I stated.

"Really, how interesting. Successful outcome I take it? One of the villagers was it?"

"Yes, she went on to make a full recovery. Not exactly one of the villagers, my future mother in law actually," I told him wryly.

"Oh dear lord, no pressure there then!" he exclaimed. "So you're taking up a position in Truro, while I've left mine behind. Strange old world isn't it, as one door closes, another opens, that kind of thing?"

"No regrets, you know, leaving all that behind now?" I quizzed him.

"No, not so far anyhow, because as I'm sure you are aware, Oncology is a pretty demanding field. Quite frankly after everything that has happened recently, all I want is to find a compromise where I can practice as a doctor but still spend time with my family, they are what is most important to me. Frankly I'm just so relieved to have got this position, it should suit my circumstances perfectly," he quietly stated, as he looked down at the floor.

"Yes, sorry about….you know. Parsons filled me in. So, how will you manage, with your children?" I felt able to ask these more personal questions now that we would be sorting out all the finer details.

"Susan, that's my mother in law, lives very close by us in Truro, so she's always on hand to stay over with the children when I'm working. Obviously it was hard on her too when Ella, my wife, was killed in the car accident, so she's thrown herself into looking after the kids as her way of coping - she's a widow, so doesn't have any other ties. It's taken a bit of adjusting, but luckily we all get on pretty well, and I don't know how I would have managed otherwise, with the kids being so young - Megan is nearly six and Charlotte has just turned four," he explained.

"I see. So do you plan to stay over on the days you're working in Portwenn? The accommodation above the surgery will be vacant by then," I filled him in, knowing that Ruth would be leaving shortly to return to London, having recently stayed at my place while the building work was being done at Havenhurst.

"Well, I am tempted to move the whole family over as I hear Portwenn Primary is a very good school, I gather it has a pretty impressive reputation. But on balance I think it's probably best to keep the girls where they are in Truro for now, disrupt them as little as possible," he said.

"Hmm, I suppose it's not too bad a school here," I muttered, remembering rather uncomfortably my words to Louisa about the lack of discipline at her school, and how she had accused me of belittling her job.

"Of course I haven't sorted out the finer details yet, I didn't like to make too many plans, not until I knew if I'd got the position or not. But rather than commuting back and forth from Truro every day, I probably will prefer to stay over for a couple of nights, use the evenings to do all the paperwork and catch up on my research and reading, that kind of thing. The girls have got their granny on hand, and they would be in bed by the time I got back most of the time anyway. Once I am back home then I become their full time dad again, so I don't think they will miss out too much."

"Well sounds as if you've got everything pretty much covered," I stated with some satisfaction, pleased overall with what I had learnt.

xXx

Of course Louisa wanted to know all about the new doctor as soon as I got back later that evening. She'd been pretty miffed not to have been one of the lay members of the interview board, but I hadn't felt it appropriate. The last thing I wanted to be accused of was any kind of collusion or conspiracy, as everyone in the village knew that we lived together now. However, I had really appreciated being able to talk through the candidates with her beforehand off the record.

"So? Who got it?" she impatiently demanded to know.

"Phillips. Best candidate by far."

"Oh right. So was it unanimous?"

"No, two votes each, it was down to my casting vote in the end. Apart from Chris, all the other selection panel members seemed interested in was how 'nice' the candidates were. It really is no wonder that incompetent Doctor Dibbs got selected last time."

"So, when will he start?"

"To be confirmed, but I gather he's fairly keen to start, so hopefully quite soon."

"What's he like? I hope that he is still 'nice' as well as competent Martin," Louisa probed.

"Hmm? Depends what you mean by nice I suppose. He's quite quiet, didn't talk much about himself to the panel, which didn't go down too well, but then he's had a pretty rough time of things lately with his wife being killed, so he probably didn't want to blab about all that, which I think is perfectly understandable, and I rather respect him I must say. Seems a pretty decent bloke actually."

"Good. Sounds as if you liked him anyway," Louisa smiled at me.

"Don't know about 'liked' but I believe we will be able to work together satisfactorily. He has suitable child care in place, so that shouldn't be an issue. Thinks he will probably stay over when he's working here, so that's good, means that there is someone around in an emergency."

"How old are his children?"

"Umm.. six and four I think he said, two girls. Their grandmother lives nearby and looks after them for him."

"That's good then. But it is still so sad to think of those two little girls growing up without their mummy."

"Yes, but at least it seems he must have had suitable life cover insurance in place to enable him to be able to afford to reduce his working hours now," I pondered, thinking that I really must review our insurance cover.

"Martin, how can you coldly think about something like insurance cover? No amount of money can replace the mother of those little girls," Louisa stated rather heatedly, for some reason upset by my practical view of the matter.

"Anyway, he said he's heard good things about your school, I thought you'd be pleased to know," I hastily changed the subject, not wanting to risk another row. "Although he's decided not to change his daughters' schools, thinks the children would benefit from continuity at the moment."

"Yes, I think he's probably wise, especially if they are happy and settled where they are. Nice to know he's heard good things about my school though, wonder where from," Louisa said with a smile. I heaved a sigh of relief at having diverted her ire.

Having successfully sorted out my new partner to my satisfaction, I could now get on with arranging my surgical refresher course, and start date for my new surgical role. I would leave Chris to let me know when he had sorted out all the finer details such as contract and starting dates with John, but I realised that the last major piece of the puzzle had now fallen into place to enable Louisa, James and I to get on with our new lives. It wouldn't be long now before we would be married, living at Havenhurst, and I would a surgeon once more.


End file.
